


And the winner is...

by TaleNeverTold



Category: Erkenci Kuş (TV)
Genre: AU post episode 37, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-01-14 14:39:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18478300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleNeverTold/pseuds/TaleNeverTold
Summary: AU post Episode 37 because in my version Emre and Leyla actually escaped Istanbul after their wedding to have a much needed alone time... and much wanted honeymoon!P.S. Yes, it will be NSFW in some chapters =)





	1. Chapter 1

\- Where are we going, Emre-bey?

Emre casted a sideline glance at Leyla, took one hand off the wheel and locked it with Leyla's hand, pressing it to his chest and holding it there. His eyes were glued to the road, but somehow Leyla still felt his watching her. Emre's voice was silky, gentle when he'd asked:

\- I thought we'd moved to the 'Emre' territory already? Now that we're married and all...

He brought her fingers up to land a soft kiss to every knuckle. Leyla shivered as something breezy travelled from his kisses to her head and down her spine. Her rational mind told her it was not supposed to feel like that, such an innocent gesture. But her irrational mind told her that she'd just gotten married out of the blue – she was still going over that in her head and wasn't ready to grasp her reasoning yet – so she might as well go with whatever else was new today! Such as this feeling, such as calling him 'Emre', such as having him to be her husband – forever and ever!

Leyla nodded and saw him smile – Emre was indeed watching her with his peripheral vision, she guessed it right! Leyla leaned forward a bit so it would be easier for him to see her when she spoke and Emre smiled more in appreciation of this gesture. Leyla asked again:

\- So, Emre, husband, where are we going?

The car screeched to a halt and it was a really good thing that they were the only car on the road because Emre didn't even try to pull over – he'd just stopped! Emre turned to Leyla abruptly and grabbed her head, not a gentle touch at all, Emre's fingers digging into her sculp, as if he was afraid Leyla would dissolve into thin air if he lets her go now. He kissed her, fervently, hot, full in, exploring the taste of her, feeding on her response. Leyla kissed back, unsure first, but getting more and more riled up with the way his beard scratched her face, the way his touch burned so sweet against her skin. Leyla got lost in the kiss, got lost in the possibility of never letting go...

Emre surfaced first – maybe, for air, or maybe, just to look her in the eyes – intense, honest, bright look, his widened pupils almost consuming the green circles. Emre whispered into her lips:

\- Do you even realize it's real? That I get to have you, and you – me, for the rest of our lives? That nothing... and no one would be able to tear us apart now... wife!

Leyla closed almost non-existent distance between their lips and kissed him – tenderly, with promise, with hope.

\- Yes, Emre. It's forever now.

He touched his forehead to hers, closed his eyes and inhaled in content. And Leyla felt like she could live the rest of their lives just here, just like this.

If it wasn't for the road traffic that has caught up with them and broke into their reverie with rune hocking. Leyla whimpered in fright, Emre looked around and started the car again, speeding up slowly. He apologized:

\- I'm sorry you got scared. I won't do it again.

Leyla's scare was short-lived, but her slow burn wasn't, and she felt as playful as ever. To that effect, Leyla suggested:

\- By all means, do that again! Just, maybe, pull over first...

Emre gritted his teeth and squinted trying to focus his clouding eyes on the road. That woman had some magical effect on him, and Allah knows how long he'd survive when his wife finds out what kind of power she holds over him!

Wife... Strangely enough, this warm feeling spreading through his body at the mere mention of their relation to each other was bigger than physical, bigger than his desire for her, bigger than Emre himself. It didn't exist inside of him – Emre existed inside of this feeling. It protected him, strengthened him, healed him and made him grow. The feeling of having a future with this amazing woman by his side. His wife.

Leyla fidgeted at her seat, worried Emre might have not liked her joke... well, almost a joke, she did mean it... or maybe he was so silent because he didn't like her joking about kissing him... Before Leyla could decide how to change the subject, Emre surprised her with this:

\- I'm just trying to figure out, if this playful side of yours is something you hid from me all this time or is it the aftermath of going full on crazy today and marrying me?

Leyla hiccupped in surprise and slapped Emre's shoulder:

\- Oh, you! You enjoy it, don't you?! Embarrassing me like that!

\- Are you embarrassed you'd married me? Regret it already? I promise, I'm not that bad of a driver... or a husband.

His tone was calm, with enough humorous tilt to make it seem breezy. But Leyla saw the way his grip on the wheel tightened, the way his jaw fixed forward, and lips pressed together. And how Emre hasn't glanced at her even once, not to give away storms that rained in his soul when he'd asked her that. Did she regret it already?

Leyla wished she could halt the car again, so she could take his head to her chest and let Emre hear as her heart chanted his name, her own personal staccato of happiness. Instead, Leyla leaned in and caressed his face with her fingers, letting her soft touch to smooth out the hard lines of his tensed-up jaw.

\- Emre, the only thing I regret is not saying 'yes' the first time you asked. I'll never regret having you for always.

Emre caught her hand and kissed her open palm, tickling her with his breath. Leyla giggled and Emre ran his chin over sensitive pads of her palm, making her giggle more and try to yank her hand away from him. Emre shook his head 'no' but stopped his tickling offense, opting out for their earlier position of interlocked fingers. Emre said with enthusiasm:

\- You know, one day I'd like to hear the story of how you went from 'let's wait' yesterday to 'let's get married' today! I mean, I'm all for the end result, but this was just the weirdest whiplash in my life, and I'd like to know the workings of your head, if I may.

\- My head was responsible for yesterday, my heart was responsible for today. And I'll tell you all about it, once we arrive to wherever it is we're going. Where is it again?

Emre pretended being busy with navigation system and ignored Leyla's question – only to hear it again few moments later, Leyla wasn't that easy to shake off! Emre sighted and answered:

\- Oh, I've heard you, Leyla! This time and previous seven times you'd asked me – I'd heard then as well. And as I told you, I'm getting us to the most beautiful place I have seen in my life – and that's all you'll know for now. That's a surprise!

Leyla pouted her lips and furrowed her eyebrows – perfect picture of capricious newlywed – and whined in a high tone:

\- But I want to know!

But Emre was a newlywed as well and was hard-set on surprising his bride today, so he wasn't as easily swayed – or Leyla just didn't know how to sway him yet. Emre smiled thinking of the times she WOULD know and then shook his head to dissolve the forming haze. Focus, Emre, you're driving! Allah-Allah!

Leyla saw him shaking his head and whined some more:

\- Please, can you tell me? Pretty please?

\- You are pretty, that's true, but I'm still not telling you. Weren't you the one telling me it's not good to ask about surprises?

Leyla remembered that conversation dimly... and what happened that day... she never got to experience that surprise.

\- Pull over.

\- Leyla, what?

Emre's voice was worried, lost for understanding, for context. Leyla had no time to explain... Her body was too tired for the emotional exhaustion and tension that has been keeping her upright since this sleepless night... and that last painful memory did her in!

\- Emre, please, pull over!

He complied immediately, stopping them in the roadside envelope and turning off the engine. Leyla got out immediately and ran to the nearest tree, grabbing it for support. Emre was behind her in a second, holding her by the shoulders, whispering to her ear:

\- Hayatim, tell me what's going on! Leyla, are you okay?

She waved her hand in dismissive motion and took a deep breath – it helped a little. Leyla turned around towards Emre and slid down against the trunk of the tree. Emre followed, landing on his knees in front of her, eyes worried and hands trembling as he stroke her arms and shoulders. His eyes darted to the car and back.

\- Should we go back? Do you need a doctor?

Leyla shook her head and attempter a smile – it was weak, but it was something.

\- No, Emre, I'll be fine... Just... just...

\- What, Leyla, tell me!

\- Promise me this surprise will happen? Promise me it's real?

Emre grabbed her in his arms, pulling her up and locking inside his tight embrace. His words were lost in her hair, her skin, as he kissed his replies everywhere he could reach:

\- Yes, Leyla, bi tanem, it's real! You're mine and I'm yours and we are going to have our happily ever after, I promise! This time I'll write this tale properly, trust me, please.

Hуpleaded with her – no, he begged her, on his knees, literally! Leyla clutched his shirt, digging her nails into him, anchoring herself to him to never let go. She couldn't lose him, just couldn't! She won't make it this time, she just knew it!

Emre leaned away and caught Leyla's face between his palms, wiping tears brimming in her sky-blue eyes with his thumbs. He kissed her cheeks, her lips, her eyelids, her forehead – and kept kissing Leyla's face as her breathing slowed down to normal.

\- Shh, Leyla, shh... I'm here and I will take care of you. Always. You are my always. Do you believe me?

Leyla nodded:

\- I want to. I do. I believe you, Emre.

\- Good.

He planted one more kiss to her lips and helped Leyla to get up. Few minutes were spent cleaning up from pine needles and grass and then they'd returned to the car. As Emre helped Leyla to her seat, he though to himself they ought to have a very difficult conversation where he would explain to her how that first surprise – and their relationship – got corrupted, how he played with Leyla's feelings before he realized he had feelings of his own, and how he would never allow anything as ugly to stand between them again. Emre promised himself that he would write this tale differently, the right way. And he'll tell her everything. He will. But maybe not on their first day as married couple. Today was for them being happy. And he'll make sure they are!

 


	2. Chapter 2

Leyla’s head lolled sharply over the seat headrest and she shot upright, only held down by the seatbelt. Her gaze focused on the road ahead of her, took in passing landscapes and then she finally spoke:

- How long was I asleep? Did I miss anything?

Emre smiled and nodded:

- You sure did miss about forty minutes of the first-class suburban landscapes, four passing cars with big dogs on the back seats, twenty-seven cars colored something other than black/white/silver, one truck carrying cages with geese and something I think was a tricycle – but we’d passed too fast so I can’t be sure.

Leyla chuckled and stroke Emre’s forearm:

- You poor thing, you were bored out of your mind! You should’ve woken me up to keep you company!

Emre shook his head, caught Leyla’s hand atop of his arm and squeezed it reassuringly:

- I thought you needed to sleep. You’d mentioned not sleeping at all this night.

Leyla turned to face the road, letting the repetitive landscape to further calm her nerves over today’s event. Her mild panic attack – and Leyla was fairly certain that was it – and an hour of sleep did help to relief some tension that accumulated in her body in the last few days. Leyla wasn’t completely sure if she was tensed about what has happened already – or what was about to happen soon enough. For the first time for them. And for the first time for her.

Emre had noticed his wife getting very quiet and chewing on her lower lip – sign of extreme concentration and problem-solving mode. He tried to carefully bring her out of it by changing the subject:

- While you were asleep, I called Can and told him that we are fine and will be back in five days. I wanted to leave for the whole week, but I don’t think Can and Sanem would be able to contain our parents for longer than that.

Leyla asked in a small voice:

- Do you think they’ll forgive us?

Emre raised an eyebrow, not comprehending the question:

- Can and Sanem? Why would they…

Leyla interjected:

- Our parents, Emre!

- Oh… Yeah, I think they will. We’re not eloping teenagers who’d decided to live in sin – we are two adults who love each other very much and our biggest problem with them should be about not inviting them to the festivities…

- Not that there were many of those…

- What?

- Nothing!

Leyla hoped he didn’t hear that hushed comment, but he absolutely did. And in the haste of today’s events it never dawned on Emre that Leyla might have wanted that whole traditional wedding thing – with proper visit to her parents, henna night and all that… And she didn’t get any of those things.

Instead she’d called him twenty hours ago, asking ‘Do you still want to marry me?’, and when he immediately responded ‘Yes!’, Leyla instructed him to meet her in court house with his documents. And the rest was history…

Emre thought Leyla wanted this. Just to be married already. But looking back to her nervousness during the ceremony, her words… Emre realized she wasn’t only running towards him… but also from something else. And Leyla had to shed some weight to get there faster, including her girl dreams of being a bride. Leyla had to skip being a bride for the sake of being his wife.

Emre pulled over again, thinking to himself that they will never get to their destination on time if they keep stopping like that. But that was not important. Leyla was.

Leyla looked at him in surprise – side of the road was not where Emre was taking her and she was sure of it. Why did they stop then?

Emre turned towards her and said:

- Leyla, will you answer me honestly?

She nodded right away and Emre already knew it was a ridiculous question – Leyla was honest to a fault. Still, he wasn’t sure Leyla would answer truthfully to this question – rather, Emre wasn’t sure Leyla would want to answer at all. But he had to try.

- Leyla, when you’d imagined your wedding… did you want all of these traditional things – henne night, halay, golden coins and so on?

- Emre, don’t worry about it, I know you weren’t raised to it, I wouldn’t put you through that just for my sake.

Shit! Shit-shit-SHIT! Leyla did want all of it! And she didn’t forgo her dream wedding only for urgency but also for his non-Turkish upbringing. Come to think of it, he WOULD have struggled with all of these practicalities and rituals. And not only because he wasn’t familiar with them but also because he was raised NOT to be traditionally Turkish man, his mother despised this concept, and Emre was her 2.0 version in making. Emre always felt out of place in large gathering of people celebrating something – hugging, dancing, kissing as if they all knew each other for ages – but it never was a big issue before since he wasn’t the main actor on them. But for his wedding he would’ve been… and Leyla chose to spare him the awkwardness at the cost of her maiden hopes.

Emre thought back to today’s events. To his eyes, Leyla was the most beautiful bride-to-be! But… he knew her dress came from a rental shop in the court house, her bouquet could’ve been pink and lilac instead of standard white, her hands should’ve been adorned with henna to keep them safe from evil eye… and they were supposed to have wedding photos.

Emre said, sadness pouring through his voice:

- It’s the photographs, right? That’s what we’d miss the most?

Leyla looked at him with incredulous expression and nodded very slowly, not believing Emre’s intuition on such a foreign subject for him.

- Yes, the photographs. I’d wanted my mother and my sister and my friends to sing me good-byes… and for you to have to buy me out… and to let everyone see how proud I am to be your wife and get their blessings… but that’s just one night, memories… we’ll get more good memories, won’t we?

- Yes, Leyla, I promise!

- But photographs…

Leyla’s voice became dry and she’d shot a hand to her throat to contain the sob. Emre shook his head and took off her hand – if Leyla was trying to conceal her crying for his benefit, he was in too much debt already, with no way to pay it back. Too late, surely, but he understood this pain.

- But the photographs would be something we show our kids, right? To show them we were loved and blessed by our families and friends. That our marriage was one of honor and pride, and our honeymoon didn’t start in a getaway car…

Leyla couldn’t speak, couldn’t nod, but by the way tears burst from her eyes as she fell to his chest, Emre knew he’d gotten it right. Leyla was mourning the happy story she was going to tell her kids. She was crying tears she was supposed to cry during her henna night in a circle of her close friends – and not into a shirt of her husband on a sideroad.

He’d fit months of courting into three days, all the flowers into one big garden delivery and the most emotional experience in a girl’s life into 15-minute dry speech by human robot.

He did it. Shit! Shit-shit-SHIT!

Leyla calmed down relatively fast – she was getting exhausted with all the emotions of today and just didn’t have enough strength left in her to give her sorrows a proper outing. That could wait till she’s alone, so she wouldn’t have to trouble Emre with her silly girl things. She turned to Emre to suggest keeping moving – and was caught off guard with a kiss so passionate and overwhelming that it burned out remaining tears from her soul. Emre said – reverently, with conviction:

- One year from today, on our first anniversary, we’ll have wedding vows renewal. I know they have them in Turkey, I’ve been to few. And you’d be my bride again… and I will come to offer the entire world in exchange for you… and I’ll learn that weird circle dance… and our entire families will be there… and we’ll have enough photos to use them as wallpaper in our new house! I swear, Leyla! Allah is my witness; I’ll give you a proper princess wedding!

Leyla shook her head, touching her fingertips to Emre’s cheek softly:

- You don’t have to, Emre, I will…

- I want to, Leyla! Will you marry me again one year from now?

Leyla’s face lit up with elation, she’d nodded fast and kissed his face all over.

- Yes, Emre, yes! Next year, and every time you ask me!


	3. Chapter 3

The evening was upon them and landscape has changed too – Emre and Leyla have entered more rural area with scenic fields and bad roads. While another bump sent Leyla jumping in her seat, she figured one thing:

\- That's why we took Can-bey's car? To survive this road?

Emre nodded shortly not getting distracted from the road ahead and he swiveled and tuned sharply to avoid the biggest potholes. He hissed though gritted teeth:

\- My car wouldn't have made it here, I'd tried this road before and almost left front bridge here!

Leyla nodded along eyeing potholes critically, as they dared to offend her beloved. Just to keep up with the subject of the journey, Leyla asked:

\- How long till we're there?

\- Curious, wife?

\- Hungry, husband!

Leyla's response was supposed to sound humorous, but hunger is no joke and Emre could tell she's getting irritated for no other reason than being tired and skipping the lunch. He accelerated the car but with this road it still took them another hour to arrive to their intermedium destination.

\- Beach! Emre, you brought me to sea! Where are we?

In her vigilant watch for the road surface Leyla forgot to follow the road signs, the last one she'd remember was the city of Aydin, because Emre brought her attention to her family name city. This, however, as numerous advertisements around them announced, was Marmaris, one of the main touristic cities of Turkish Riviera. Leyla forgot her hunger and general fatigue for a moment for all the excitement of bright city lights and awakening night life. She clapped her hands turning in circles to see everything at once – and that was the cutest thing Emre has seen in a long time. Leyla beamed one of her heart-stopping smiles at him and quipped:

\- Emre, are we staying in Marmaris? I've never been at this coast! Can we get a boat tour to Bodrum? Herodotus was born there, but more importantly, my father was born there, I'd always wanted to visit!

Emre smiled to himself while getting their bags out of the car – seemed like with all the things he got wrong today, this one he'd gotten right! He came closed to Leyla and dropped the bags on either side of her, making her freeze mid-spin. She asked:

\- What?

\- I just love when you're like this?

\- Like what?

\- Happy.

Leyla circled her arms around Emre's neck, lifting her face for a kiss. Emre obliged gladly, drinking on her newfound energy and excitement. When kiss ended – even though none of them wanted to but there was a crowd audience to consider – Leyla said:

\- I'd told you before – you make me happy like I'd never thought possible. At least, not for me.

Emre furrowed his brows and tilted his head as if doubting he'd heard her right.

\- Why? Of all the people I know, you are the one who deserves happiness the most!

Leyla smiled even wider and her whole face lit up – like his simple words gave her something not expected and precious, some miracle. Than Leyla blinked and a little devilish sparkle ignited in her eyes, turning her expression from dreamy to mischievous. She flicked the tip of Emre's nose and reprimanded him:

\- Well, because someone took his sweet time figuring out that he needs to make me happy!

\- Oh, - was all that Emre could manage. Right. He was Leyla's happiness. Not a vacation on a fancy resort, or bright city life. Him. Emre.

He bended over to pick up their bags again and said:

\- Milady, would you, please, do me the honor of escorting me to our next destination?

Leyla agreed automatically and started following Emre who was threading his way though crowds. She asked just in case:

\- Are we not staying here?

Emre shook his head and said without turning to her, confident she was close enough to hear him:

\- Not exactly. You'll see.

In few more minutes of crowd hopping they entered relatively empty and unusually quiet marina and Emre confidently continued to walk alongside the private docks where boats and yachts of all sizes and kinds waved peacefully. Then he stopped in front of the most beautiful sailboat she'd ever seen, her white wooden surfaces all polished and shiny, glimmering in the night lights. Side sign said in exquisite cursive letters 'Serena' and before Leyla though better of herself, she blurted out:

\- Who's Serena?

Emre raised an eyebrow mockingly:

\- Why, Leyla-hanim, are you jealous?

She retorted immediately, not liking this line of conversation already:

\- Weren't you trying to make me jealous for weeks, Emre-bey?

\- True...

\- So, who is Serena again?

Emre shrugged it off:

\- Patrick's mother.

Leyla sighted – as if that was the answer that did not require any further explanation! Leyla was at her last strand patience but tried to remain calm:

\- Who is Patrick then?

Having heard the brewing storm in his wife's dangerously calm voice, Emre went for a more detailed description:

\- Childhood friend. We grew up together, I used to vacation with his family at their house near Toulon. When we were old enough, his father taught us both how to sail.

While he spoke, Emre was also getting busy with fixing a short wooden plank over the side of the boat and bringing their bags over to the boat. Once finished, he offered his hand to Leyla and she hopped over to his side. Leyla looked around – the boat was a beauty, but she was also so big!

\- Can you sail it by yourself? Or shall we have a crew joining us?

Leyla looked at the darkness and shivered at the prospect of other people joining their honeymoon voyage. Emre hugged her from behind and kissed her shoulder, scratching it a bit with his beard – but Leyla already started to like that sensation reserved only for her skin.

\- Don't worry, hayatim, we are alone. I can sail it by myself, it's not that difficult, I'll teach you some of it. But also, this is motorsailer, means it has an engine. It's used to navigate when there's no wind, or in narrow passages, or when you just don't feel like bothering with sails.

Leyla turned around in his embrace, her expression hopeful.

\- But we are going to bother with the sails, right?

She bit her lower lip in expectation of his reply. Instead, Emre bent his head and bit the same lip, making Leyla gasp in surprise. She tasted sweet and warm, his Leyla.

\- Yes, Leyla, we'll bother with rails. But tomorrow. Tonight, we'll just take her out the marina and find ourselves some nice place to anchor for the night. Would you prefer bay or open sea?

\- Open sea! – Leyla's answer was immediate as her breath hitched in her throat, - I'd never been on the boat at night! It must look so beautiful, all the stars!

\- It does, Leyla, it does. Shall we?

Emre led Leyla further along the side deck to the helm, ignited the engine and led Serena out of the dock. Leyla followed his lazy yet very precise and calculated movements with mesmerized eyes, having not seen this Emre ever. He was so different like this, in a simple T-shirt and jeans, his usually slicked over hair blown up in spikes by sea breeze, his eyes sharply looking into light indicators on the water... her husband was a sailor! Businessman, financial genius, part-time racer, full-time model for well-tailored Italian suits, mind-blowing kisser – and now a sailor!

Leyla giggled and Emre looked at her with worry – was she getting hysterical out of exhaustion? Leyla shook her head to answer his troubled expression and said:

\- I just thought that I didn't know you are a pirate too! Any more surprises, husband?

Emre nodded:

\- Yes, few. Beware, darling, I may also be a classically-trained opera singer, a salsa dancer, a fencing master or an equestrian. You never know...

Leyla laughed out loud imagining Emre being all of those things at once. Through giggles, she'd managed to squeeze:

\- Are you... any... of those things?

Emre looked at her and with a very mysterious seriousness answered:

\- Two of those things.

Leyla's eyes rounded up and she jumped up to the steering station and clutched Emre's hand. Her eyes were hungry for the new information about a man she thought she knew everything about.

\- Which two?

\- I guess, you'll just have to wait and see for yourself, Leyla.

Leyla's stomach growled loudly, and she'd covered it with her hand, feeling embarrassed on behalf of her demanding body. Emre stilled the engine, took Leyla by the hand and led her downstairs – 'doghouse' as he'd explained – where they had a mini-kitchen and curved settee that served as a dinner space. To Leyla's surprise, the fridge was fully stocked with food and few bottles of champagne. Emre rummaged through the fridge and took out few things – seemingly, to cook pasta. Leyla eyed him suspiciously:

\- Are you also world-renowned chef by any chance?

\- Sadly, no. But I do know how to throw few things together and get something edible out of it.

Leyla suggested weakly:

\- I can cook...

Emre assessed her limp form already cozying up on the settee and retorted:

\- I'm sure you could... if you could stand. Today, I'll cook, agreed?

\- Agreed.

Leyla yawned and stood up, shakily, to go and explore the doghouse some more. One level down from kitchen there was a bedroom with a king-size bad, vanity stand and a door that led to the sizable shower and two sinks. 'For him and for her', Leyla thought to herself and that thought warmed up her insides. Leyla got back to the kitchen and leaned over the counter, watching Emre cook them dinner in the same clean-cut movements as she saw before with sailing rigs. When he finished, they ate seafood pasta in comfortable silence, feeding each other bits and pieced of bread dipped in olive oil, cheese and grapes, combined with a bottle of good semi-sweet white wine. And Leyla had to admit that while Emre wasn't a 'world-renowned chef', he fared well in the kitchen department.

Once the dishes were done, Leyla stood up and turned towards the bedroom – and froze. Logically, she realized, Emre would follow her to the bedroom. It was his bedroom too. And she was his wife. And today was their wedding night.

Emre pushed her gently towards the bedroom and said:

\- I'll get in to take my pajamas and leave. I'll sleep at the spare bed in the engine room. It's in the other side of the boat, if you'll need me.

Leyla turned around and lowered her eyes unable to bring up this topic head on.

\- But aren't you... us... it's our wedding night...

Emre took her by the chin and raised it till their eyes met. Leyla wore this perfect shade of shy with barely visible contour of self-conscious and highlights of curious. Emre kissed her lips gently, letting his love – and only his love – to travel between them. He broke off from her soft trembling lips to say:

\- And you are tired... and exhausted... and sleepy.

\- But...

Emre put one finger over her lips to silence his ever-opinionated wife and got caught in a sudden whirlwind of emotions as he watched her kiss his fingers and then his palm. His resolve was shaking and Emre had to remind himself what the plan was for today.

\- Leyla, I'll have you for forever. So, it doesn't have to be tonight, especially considering how much we've been through today and that you haven't slept in almost forty hours. You get some rest and we'll get back to this discussion when we're ready, okay?

Leyla didn't look convinced, but the contours of self-doubt became more visible of her pink-tinted face. Leyla wasn't sure if Emre was trying to take care of her – or to reject her. Emre kissed her again, traveling deeper, letting his passion for this astonishing woman to rein over him for a moment so she'd feel just how much her husband wanted her. That kiss left them both a bit disoriented so Emre pressed his forehead to hers for support – and just to be that close to her. He whispered:

\- I'll take first wedding morning, first wedding afternoon, first wedding evening or whatever time of the day you'd want to give me, Leyla Divit. And now go to sleep before you fall.

\- No.

Emre opened his eyes and looked at Leyla's pouting lips, fighting the urge to kiss her again, and keep kissing her until sun rises again – and maybe even after that! But first he needed to address her refusal to go to sleep.

\- 'No' means what, Leyla?

\- I may not be making love today – you are right, I am too tired, and I wouldn't want to fall asleep on you during... erm... you know...

Emre did his best to keep serious expression as Leyla struggled with her vocabulary. Since she couldn't seem to find the right words, Emre suggested:

\- Continue?

\- Yes, so, I'm not sleeping alone!

It felt almost like she was about to stomp her foot or something equally as adorable, but Leyla just raised her chin in defiance and looked him straight in the eyes. Was his wife challenging him to spend a night in their bed? Oh, wow!

\- Leyla, do you want me to sleep with you tonight?

She shrugged, trying to play it nonchalant:

\- Well, it doesn't make much sense for you not to, since it's OUR bed for now and...

Her resolve disappeared in a blink of an eye and Leyla pressed her lips together to keep the rest of that sentence shut. Emre kissed her quickly and her lips fell open reflectively.

\- What else, Leyla?

His wife tried to look away – again! – and, frankly, Emre was getting tired of this automatic response to anything remotely intimate between them. Instead of turning her face to him, Emre set on one of the bar chairs, looking up at Leyla. He'd brought her closer to him, standing between his knees, and held Leyla's hands to his chest.

\- Leyla, hayatim, sometime – I hope, soon – we'll get closer than you can possibly imagine. But, in order for that to be real and beautiful and good for us, you have to stop hiding from me. Talk to me, Leyla. You'd entrusted me with your body and soul when you'd married me – please, trust me with your mind too. If you absolutely don't want to talk – then don't. But, please, I beg you, stop looking away from me. Your eyes are so important to me, don't take them away, please!

Leyla looked at him, long and deep, and Emre felt like he was drowning in her deep-blue irises, that familiar sensation of forgetting how to breathe. Leyla said, no hesitation or restrain in her voice:

\- I want to sleep with you tonight so I can get used to having you in my bed. To your body beside me.

Emre gulped and nodded, impressed by Leyla's bravery and her responsiveness to his plea. They went to the bathroom, took turns in the shower and finally landed under the covers in one big bed. Leyla curled on her side into a ball, feeling Emre fit in semi-circle behind her. Emre's hand crossed her abdomen and pressed Leyla to his chest. Leyla felt Emre kiss the top of her head as he whispered:

\- Good night, wife.

Leyla responded by covering his arm with hers to keep them locked tight through the night and said:

\- Good night, husband.

As far as first wedding nights go, this one was good. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Morning started with a bit of a jolt as the bed underneath her actually moved! Leyla took a second to get her bearings and remembered that it wasn’t just her bed that was moving – the entire room was rocking slightly in correspondence with the waves breaking over the board. Yeah, that’s right, she was on a boat!

Leyla jumped out of the bed. First thing she needed to locate was her suitcase, she’d definitely had one yesterday! Or rather… scratch that… first thing Leyla WANTED to locate was her husband – she had one of those yesterday too!

Foregoing the idea of clothing – Emre had already spent the whole night with her and will hardly be shocked with Leyla’s very respectable pajamas – Leyla shot out of the bedroom to the kitchen area. She didn’t find her husband, but she did find breakfast. Served beautifully on the plate, there were French toasts, honey, some fruits, cubes of cheese and apricot jam, her favorite. Hungry growl from her stomach confirmed that Leyla won’t be skipping this meal, so she took the whole plate and went to find Emre. Leyla stumbled on the stairs and lost one of the apples that jumped down with the knocking sound – Leyla made a mental note to find it later. First husband, then clothes, then apple.

Serena, their motorsailer, was a big boat (not that Leyla had seen that many boats up close), but not big enough to hide Emre. His was kneeling at the deck, tying some rope connected to the smaller sail of their three sails. Emre was completely in his own zone and didn’t notice Leyla even though she was pretty sure he’d glanced her way at least once. Leyla didn’t mind the opportunity to fully ogle her husband, his hair wet – he must’ve taken the shower – his feet bare, wearing white linen shirt and light-blue capri pants.

Following Emre with her eyes was rather fascinating activity, but hunger was still there and reminded of itself with rude sounds, so Leyla set on the deck, placed the plate beside her and chewed on the French toast. And this was the best French toast she’d ever tasted in her life! Really!

\- Mmmm…

Emre responded without turning to her:

\- Did you say something, Leyla? And good morning!

She blinked in surprise and chewed quicker to swallow and respond:

\- Good morning, Emre! So, you’d noticed me here? I thought you were too busy with your ropes!

Emre did one last manipulation with a rope that now looked like intricate weaving circling around metal nob on the deck and turned to Leyla. His eyes ran over her figure appreciatively

and stopped on her face. Emre nodded:

\- Yes, I’d notice you anywhere. But also, you’d made some noise when you came up. One more also, these aren’t called ropes, they are lines.

Leyla shrugged the last notice off:

\- Look like ropes to me.

Emre came to sit before her, throwing one cube of cheese dipped in honey to his mouth.

\- Yes, Leyla, they are usual ropes, but on boats we call them lines. Just as we use ‘port’ instead of ‘left’, ‘starboard’ instead of ‘right’ – and sails have different names too.

Leyla nodded automatically, completely transfixed with a little drop of honey that landed at short hairs of Emre’s beard, just below his lower lip. The drop glistened at the sun, beaconing Leyla to do something about it. Take a napkin or tell him or… and Leyla leaned in and licked the honey away. When she leaned out, Emre followed her lips instinctively. He almost toppled over, and when he’d straightened out, Emre’s expression was priceless – both stunned and eager. Leyla giggled enjoying the effect her little not-so-innocent trick had on her husband.

\- Why, Emre-bey, the lection on proper sailing dictionary is over? What can you tell me about the types of masts, for example? These wooden poles are called masts, right?

Leyla was half-expecting some kind of sensual response. By the way his eyes followed her mouth when she spoke, and she could almost feel it like a physical touch, by the way his body tensed and shifted towards her – Leyla expected at least a kiss. To begin with.

Instead, Emre looked her in the eyes and raised an eyebrow. A challenge? About what?

Her man said:

\- I’m glad you asked. So, here we have sail-plan that is called a ‘ketch’, and we have three sails: mainsail, mizzen and a jib, the little one…

While saying these things, Emre pointed with his right hand, while he continued to dip different fruits and pieces of food into honey and eating them. Honey dripped over his fingers and he’d licked them, making Leyla wiggle uncomfortably at her place as her body was heating up uncontrollably. Leyla was very confused as to what she was supposed to look at, but just because Emre seemed to be very engrossed in his lecture, Leyla at least tried to follow his boat story. Unfortunately for her, Emre didn’t stop at the sail-plan explanations – over the next half an hour or so, he followed up with information of different lines, rigs, what are the different points of sails and what are the pros and cons of different ways to change positions, also known as ‘who-can-remember-so-many-things-at-once?’.

The other thing that was difficult about this knowledge quest was Emre. He was too gorgeous to look at, too much of his skin exposed and Leyla wanted to touch all of it! Her body still remembered his lingering hold, the way his breath tickled her neck, and his arm palmed her belly tenderly. And how he really wanted her – she remembered that definitive pressure too! That was Leyla’s most overwhelming thought that just wouldn’t leave her and distracted Leyla from all attempts to learn sailing!

At some point of the lecture, Emre asked:

\- Do you have any more questions?

Leyla nodded and said the first thing that came into her mind that would throw him off his game:

\- Where did you learn how to make such perfect French toast? And if you tell me you ever did them for another woman, I’d be jealous!

Leyla didn’t really know why she’d said that last bit, maybe she was attempting a joke. But as soon as she did, Leyla stiffened and looked away uncomfortably. Emre hissed and Leyla remembered promising him the honesty of her eyes. She swallowed hard bracing herself for the answer and raised her eyes at Emre, waiting for that painful verdict.

Emre was caught off guard. Now? She wanted to have the discussion about his past life and past women now? He’d figured that subject may come up sometime, because Leyla was inquisitive and enthusiastically interested in him. But now? This soon?

Emre didn’t know what to do with himself at that moment. And then Leyla raised her eyes at him – just as they agreed she would always do – and he was struck by the sheer pain in them, by the ways her lips parted in agonizingly silent scream of ‘please, no names!’ that she’d never voice audibly. Emre was sure Leyla didn’t even know she was mouthing these words over and over again; she was so focused on keeping her eyes glued to his.

A month ago, she wanted nothing to do with him for all his betrayals and lies. A week ago, she broke up with her fiancée, paragon of honesty and good behavior. Today she was HIS wife, whom he promised no lies and no fear. And she’d just managed to ask one of the questions that would hurt her no matter what he answers. If he lies, Leyla would know. If he tells the truth… but she doesn’t really need him to tell the truth. Leyla already knew it. She knew the names. She’d been with him long enough, she knew Aylin, she knew girls before Aylin. There was usually one, sometimes two in Emre’s arms when he’d show up to some agency function… and it was too late that Emre realized it wasn’t just disapproval that froze over Leyla’s eyes. It was pain. She loved him, all the way back then, and he didn’t even notice her beyond her brilliant mind and irreplaceable support. He was blind and now came the time to see himself painfully clear.

Leyla waited with bated breath not sure if she can find the words to safely drop this subject and not to fall apart in the same time. Emre made one tentative step forward, hesitated on his approach and then shook his head and launched himself at her. He grabbed Leyla’s face and dug into her lips, inhaling deeply. Emre tugged her up to a standing position, making Leyla to grab his neck for support. Emre’s left arm circled her waist, while his right hand got tangled in the knot of her hair as he pulled out of the kiss reluctantly. Emre’s voice was hoarse from the depth of his emotions:

\- None that were my wife! None that I loved as much as I love you! And if what we have is REAL love then I loved none but you in my entire life!

Single tear rolled down Leyla’s cheek and she’d finally exhaled – exhaled her tension, her worries and her reservations. Emre closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers, whispering:

\- Leyla, please, say you believe me…

To answer that Leyla rose on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead and whispered back:

\- I do, Emre. I believe you. And I believe IN you. And I believe in US.

\- Thank you, hayatim. I love you! I love you so much!

\- I know. That’s why we are here.

That was a whispered conversation. But by the way these words traveled down their veins and left invisible prints on their souls, both Leyla and Emre knew they’d remembered it more if it was screamed from the mountain tops.

Following that realization, Leyla remembered Emre proposing to do just that and giggled. That silly sound brought Emre back from his happy reverie and he’d opened his eyes.

\- What’s so funny, wife?

\- You offered to shout about your love for me – now you can do it, since nobody is around!

Emre raised an eyebrow and stepped half-a-step back, eying Leyla mischievously.

\- Do you think being around other people would have stopped me?

Leyla nodded with conviction:

\- I think it would! Emre Divit doesn’t do things like that! Society would’ve been horrified!

Emre cocked his head and chewed his lip for a moment, assessing Leyla’s words. Then he shook his head, making his spiked hair fall the other way, and said:

\- And you think you’d married that Emre Divit? The one that cares about what society thinks of him more than he loves his wife?

Leyla squinted catching up to the new direction of this light topic – was he getting offended? But she didn’t even reprimand him or anything! Why is Emre getting defensive with her?

\- Ok, Emre, don’t get upset with me, please! I didn’t mean anything by it!

\- Sounded like you were calling me uptight and boring husband!

Leyla was surprised that Emre was actually getting agitated! Honestly, men and their fragile egos! But it was such a beautiful morning and such a peaceful place – why does he have to go and turn everything down like that?

\- Okay, Emre, I meant no such thing and you know it! So, stop it right now and we can get back to that very interesting lesson, - Leyla stressed these words in the driest form she could master, - or is it over already?

Emre smiled – when Leyla was getting all serious and cold like this, he got real teacher vibes off her and his mind itched with the need to flip her over and tickle her! But then a lightbulb moment happened and Emre changed his mind to something better:

\- No, we’re done with the theory! Next is practice! Do you know how to swim?

Leyla looked around as if noticing vast planes of water around them for the first time. She couldn’t quite grasp where he was going with it:

\- Yes, but why…

The rest of the ‘why’ got lost in Leyla’s scream when Emre lifted her up and threw her overboard. When Leyla surfaced, spewing water and untangling hair from her face, Emre was already in the water, swimming around her at the safe distance so she couldn’t kick him.

\- Oh, you! Nnnn… Prick! Emre! Come here right this instant!

Emre swam closer to Leyla obediently and said in the pacifying voice:

\- Not that boring anymore, wife, huh?

Leyla wasn’t amused by the way Emre decided to showcase his adventurous side on her expense:

\- Emre! Don’t do things like that again! There could be jelly-fish here! Or sharks! Or our boat can drift away!

Emre chuckled:

\- There are no jelly-fish and sharks here, I checked this morning. And Serena is not going anywhere, she’s anchored. I dropped the anchor five minutes before came topside, that was what woke you up, I’m guessing.

Emre swam around her in wide circles and Leyla didn’t even notice as she started mirroring him, trying to keep him in her sight at all times, in case of another sudden attack! Not true about the sharks – one was right there, watching her with hungry eyes, waiting for a bite!

But the water was warm and soothing and, if being truly honest, Leyla was not-so-secretly enjoying this playful side of her former suit-and-tie boss. Who knew he could be so different – and just for her!

But there was no way she was letting him off the hook so easy! Emre had to pay for what he did!

\- Emre, my pajamas are wet now! I do have a swimsuit for occasions like this! And it’s not healthy to swim with a full stomach!

Leyla splashed some water on Emre’s face and turned to swim around the boat to Serena’s stern where the ladder was. Emre caught up with her and held her by the waist from behind, pressing her wet body to his, ignoring her weak attempts to free herself from his warm hold. He rowed with his legs fast enough for both of them to stay afloat so Leyla relaxed into his embrace. Emre whispered, his lips touching her earlobe as he did:

\- That was hardly a breakfast so you should be safe. As for your pajamas – I was planning to throw them overboard anyways… you’re not sleeping in them ever again.

Leyla stilled, her brain overloading with information coming from all over her body. How his lips traveled down her shoulder, grazing the wet fabric of her pajamas with his teeth… how his hands moved up and his thumb was stroking the underside of her breasts… and then moved up to fully cup her breast, pinching her nipple between his fingers. Leyla jerked in his arms, grazing against the part of him that was quite an evidence of what this was all about! Emre pushed away from Leyla with effort and said to the back of her head:

\- Get up the boat, or I’ll drown us. I’ll be up soon.

Leyla wanted to say something, began to turn to him but Emre pushed her gently towards the boat and pleaded:

\- No, Leyla, please. Just go up and change. Please.

Leyla thought it best not to turn around if he didn’t want her to, but she was getting worried too – Emre’s voice sounded almost pained. Maybe, his efforts to keep them above the water was too much…

\- Emre, are you okay? Do you have a spasm?

She heard his sour chuckle from behind:

\- Yeah, you can say like that. But no, I’ll be fine, Leyla, really. Go!

This time Leyla listened, and, in few moments, she was already aboard and turned around to see if Emre needed her help getting up. But Emre was moving away from the boat, covering the distance in wide graceful strokes. Leyla got worried she’d lose the sight of him, but then Emre turned and swam back to the boat. When Emre was close enough, Leyla stood up to wave at him – and Emre’s head disappeared under the water! Shit! He definitely had spasms! Leyla looked around for the floating ring, but Emre’s head suddenly reappeared. His eyes were glued to Leyla’s chest, and he yelled:

\- Leyla, spare me! Go change and I’ll be back!

With that Emre turned around and swam in the same direction and Leyla looked down to see what wrong was with her clothes to get Emre so distraught. Her pink pajamas with cute little butterfly buttons were made out of fine silk – a little indulgence on Leyla’s part – and were very wet right now. Surely enough, normally loose fit was now sticking to her body like a glove, annunciating her hips, waist, breasts – pebbled nipples and all.

Leyla gasped and became few shades darker than her pajamas, running to their bedroom to find her suitcase finally and change into something less revealing! Oh Allah, what must her husband think of her character!

Little did Leyla know, but on his part, Emre thought no such thing. He tried not thinking at all, for that matter. He really tried to let the monotonous physical exertion of fast-paced swim to numb his body and his imagination. Stubborn imagination, however, readily reminded of that sight of Leyla waving at him from the deck… her hair dripping wet… perfect pink figure… chest heaving… wind blowing away one of the lapels of her shirt to reveal her navel… Damn, Emre, get yourself together! You’ll never get up that boat with a keel like that!

Third time Emre circled back to Serena, he’d noticed Leyla was back topside, dressed in green shirt and loose white pants that went down to her ankles. She was sitting down and combing her hair back and forth, letting it dry under the sun. Emre smiled to this peaceful image and swam to join his wife.

The first thing Emre did when he got on deck was to take off his shirt and spread it over the mainmast boom to dry. Surprised gasp from behind reminded Emre that he has had an audience and that was exactly the first time his wife saw him half-naked like this. Emre chased away a pang of self-doubt and turned around slowly, combing his hair back with his fingers. Leyla was looking at him with curiosity mixed with appreciation and Emre sighted with relief. He walked around the mainmast, nodded to Leyla and ran down to the bedroom to change into dry clothes. In few minutes he come back up and found Leyla continuing with sun-drying her hair. Emre took a minute to appreciate Leyla’s shirt – narrow frame, clean cut with few ruffles, soft fabric, rich green color. Very Leyla.

Leyla noticed him looking and immediately brought her hair to the front, to cover as much of her body as possible. Emre flicked his tongue and said:

\- If that was your attempt to hide from me, it’s too late, Leyla. That image is burnt onto my eyelids!

\- Oh no!

Leyla buried her face in her palms and groaned audibly.

\- You must think me shameless! Noooooo…

Leyla felt Emre sit down in front of her and then he took her hands off her face. Emre looked her in the eyes as if he was going to kiss her – but then he kissed her palms, inhaling deeply with hissing sound, like it was hard for him to breathe. And Emre kept kissing them again and again, his beard tickling her fingers. Leyla bent her digits slightly, so her nails scratched Emre’s chin and he murmured like a cat, his eyes rolled back into his head. Lyla did it again, deliberately this time, scrunching her nose when short hairs pricked under her nails. When her fingers fanned out to cover Emre’s jawline and down the neck, his eyes shot open and he carefully took Leyla’s hands off his body. Emre whispered:

\- Just… not yet.

Leyla frowned:

\- Why?

Emre smiled – they were clearly talking about different things. Leyla was confused why he wouldn’t let her caress his face, rather innocent gesture on her behalf. Emre, fully aware of how sensitive his neck was to this kind of caress, was already anticipating his reaction which was never too long for when Leyla was around… and he knew Leyla was still too shy to go about it like this, in a broad daylight. Emre needed some distraction – mostly for himself rather than Leyla. He suggested:

\- Because, Leyla, we still have plans. Now that I’m sure you can swim, - Leyla smacked Emre’s shoulder at that, - maybe it’s time to take off anchor and learn some actual sailing? Wind is in our favor and we need to get ashore to eat something…

Leyla’s face lit up and her eyes shot to the masts, their sails rolled down, waiting. Leyla looked back at her husband, who fed off her delight and excitement.

\- Oh, Emre, really? Yes, yes, yes, yes!

And for the next few hours Emre managed to keep his wife from getting knocked off the board by the boom and keep Serena from capsizing! Miracle, really!

But as for the distraction plan – there Emre had to admit that he shot himself in the foot. Leyla wasn’t strong enough to hold down the lines when wind tried to rip the sails off her hands, so Emre was always behind her, keeping her steady, holding onto her… her lean body, tensed with effort… her skin smelled of soap and salt… the sounds she’d make when fighting with a jib because Leyla was convinced she could take on the smallest sail by herself… the way she bit her lip in concentration to tie a perfect knot…

All of those things – really bad distraction! Not distracting at all! Very much the opposite!

Ah, Emre, ah!

 


	5. Chapter 5

They moored in Datça for lunch and some grocery shopping as Leyla was suddenly in the mood for wild berries and there were none in the fridge. They walked through narrow streets, with old brick buildings, shying away from busier touristic attractions and crowded beaches. Other people ware something foreign, like they didn’t really exist.

On the way back to the marina, they stopped at the flower shop to buy lilac Şebboy flowers, Leyla’s favorite. She was still a little bitter that all the flowers Emre brought her were now in Sanem’s room – Leyla told her sister to take them so flowers wouldn’t be in vain, but they were hers! Not fair!

Emre laughed at Leyla’s annoyance:

\- Well, Sanem is holding the fort for us, I say these flowers are well deserved! But also, if you want just as many flowers, you’ll get them!

\- Oh, no, Emre! Where would we put them on the boat, she’s not that big to host a garden!

Emre smiled mysteriously and went ahead, hugging Leyla close to his body.

… … …

Reason for his smiling became clearer when they’d came back to Serena – flowers were everywhere! Little bouquets of Şebboy flowers of all shades of pink, violet and lilac were placed atop the deck, at the helm, at the stairs… together with little oil lamps… and the air smelled divine! Sweet, intoxicating, rejuvenating – and promising. Leyla swirled around to Emre’s smiling face, looking hopeful and unsure at the same time. He asked before she could say anything:

\- Too much? Not enough? Good?

Leyla flung herself to his arms, Emre catching her without a difficulty but almost dropping their grocery bag – but who cared!

\- Emre, this is magical! How did you do it? You were with me the whole time!

He looked to the shore and nodded at someone – Leyla turned and saw a boy of 10-12 years maybe, holding up his thumb. Emre responded with the same gesture and the boy ran away.

Leyla followed the boy with her gaze and asked:

\- Friend of yours?

\- Kinda… He’s friend of Serena, and I don’t mean Patrick’s mom, I mean the boat. He looks over her when she’s here, runs errands and such…

\- Oh… I didn’t know boats have such a wide friend circle…

Emre looked around and touched a line straining the mizzensail gently.

\- She’s a good girl, she’s been with us through a lot, she deserves some love and respect.

Leyla touched her fingers to Emre’s shoulder, and he immediately refocused on her, quenching the tiniest pang of irrational jealousy Leyla had for a BOAT:

\- Then she’d lucky to have you… as am I…

Emre bent down to put grocery bag at the deck and embraced Leyla properly when he’d gotten up. He kissed her softly on the cheek, right where her mouth curved into smile, and said:

\- It’s not even in the same realm. Others may have my affection, my friendship, my respect, my gratitude. You have my everything. I belong to you, Leyla!

\- As I to you, Emre…

And she kissed him. Longer, deeper, harder… offering, demanding… and waiting.

… … …

They dropped grocery bag on the kitchen counter and probably nocked it off immediately because something definitely fell on the floor… but they didn’t notice behind all the kissing and tugging at each other’s clothes, hair, entire bodies. Leyla dropped her bouquet at the kitchen sink just a little more carefully but still – who cared about one bouquet if she had more of them adorning kitchen… settee… their bedroom…

The bedroom had fewer flowers and lamps, making the aroma much more subdued and not overwhelming, and the light very soft and mysterious. Emre made sure this place to be a special one. Just for her.

… … …

Leyla stumbled and bent down in an awkward pose trying to take off her shoes without breaking the kiss. Emre smiled into her mouth and broke it off himself:

\- Leyla, canim, don’t injure yourself, I can wait for you to take them off normally.

Easier said than done! Leyla looked at him and was engrossed in the flames blazing in Emre’s eyes. He was standing few steps away from her, but it felt like heat emanating from his body warmed Leyla up right that instant… and she didn’t know what to do about it. What was she supposed to do? What was expected of her? Was she..? How did she..?

Leyla stepped back and pressed against the wall. She looked around – the room that seemed like a luxury suite this morning was so tiny right now… it was just her… and Emre… and the bed.

Emre saw Leyla’s eyes darting between him and the bed – and back at him. Leyla’s hands were in tight fists, her composure collected as if she was preparing for a battle… Oh no! His wife was overthinking it! But then again… Leyla would!

Emre stepped back too, giving her as much space as he could – but space in the cabin was definitely limited.

\- Leyla, hayatim… talk to me.

\- Um… what?

Emre set on a bed and invited Leyla to take the other side of it – she nodded and set down too. Emre repeated his offer:

\- Talk to me. Are you scared? Worried? Don’t…, - Emre stiffened at these words, - don’t want to?

Leyla clutched the coverlet on the bed and her knuckles became whiter. How was she supposed to answer these questions?

She faltered with her answer but then managed:

\- I don’t know… I never… What am I… What should I be doing?

Emre stifled a smile and relieved sigh. She wasn’t scared of him, just of the unknown. But few things needed to be talked about first.

\- Leyla… Are you a virgin?

Even in a semi-darkness lit only by few oil lamps, Emre saw Leyla turn red and bite her lip – action both cute and breathtakingly hot! Emre waited for Leyla to collect her bearings and tell him what he’d already known. Leyla, however, didn’t say anything out loud, just nodded.

Emre asked further:

\- Do you… want this? And, please, no ‘should’, ‘have to’, ‘expected’, ‘duty’ and similar nonsense! Do you want this… me?

\- Yes!

Leyla almost screamed her answer and clasped a hand over her mouth to keep embarrassing revelations from spilling further out. Emre beamed a smile so bright it could serve as a small sun and nodded.

\- You have no idea what that means to me, Leyla! And I hope that one day you won’t be as embarrassed by this notion as you are now…

Leyla shook her head quickly, and rushed to dispel his misconception on her reaction:

\- No, Emre, I’m not embarrassed to… to want you. I just… don’t know what to do about it. I’m embarrassed of that.

Emre scooched just a bit closer to Leyla and seeing how she didn’t run away screaming, that was a success. He offered this in exchange for her worries:

\- You didn’t know how to sail either… I don’t think people are born with this particular… skill set. Do you want me to teach you?

A perfectionist in Leyla reacted right away, to assure Emre that she wasn’t completely ignorant after all.

\- I mean, I know the… the technical part.

Emre’s eyes got really big and he asked in almost real horror:

\- The ‘technical part’? Oh no, please, don’t explain!

Leyla stiffened even more and Emre regretted his rebuttal:

\- I’m sorry, Leyla! I only meant to say that it’s not going to be ‘technical’ between us, not today, not ever. But I’m glad you know the general idea so we can focus more on what it feels like rather than how it’s done… technically.

Leyla felt a smile in his voice, but not like Emre was laughing at her, he was just enjoying being able to talk about it with his wife. Leyla offered one more piece of knowledge to absolve Emre of future guilt:

\- I know it will hurt. And I know it can’t be avoided. It’s okay.

Leyla touched his forearm and squeezed it softly – supportive gesture of Leyla forgiving her husband for hurting her later. She forgave him many times before, he knew that look, he knew that touch. Emre took Leyla’s hand and said with conviction:

\- I’ll do whatever it takes to make it less painful, Leyla!

Leyla crooked her head and asked, almost scientific interest in her voice:

\- Is it possible?

Emre smiled at the change of the mood and nodded solemnly:

\- We’ll be sure to check that theory.

\- Okay.

Emre wasn’t fooled with Leyla’s calm responses – his wife was still very nervous, fidgeting with buttons of her shirt and digging her nails into his forearm. Emre shifted on the bed and rose on his knees, making Leyla do the same before him. He touched her buttons and asked quietly:

\- May I?

Leyla nodded and her hands went to the upper button of Emre’s shirt, but he took her hands off him tenderly and proposed:

\- Let’s take turns. This way you don’t get distracted from what you are feeling by what you are doing.

That was some long sentence and Emre was surprised that he could get it all out – he was dangerously low on breath and felt dizzy on the prospect of undressing Leyla. His Leyla! Naked! In his bed! Is it even real?!

Leyla’s arms dropped to her sides as she waited for Emre to continue with her buttons. He tugged on the fabric to release the shirt from her pants and started undoing buttons one by one, never looking away from Leyla’s face. When all the buttons were done, Emre’s hands slipped into the crack and followed the opening from her neck, down between he breasts to her waist. The touch of his fingertips was barely there, but Leyla could feel it marking her skin in tingling lines – they didn’t feel ticklish at all, just hypersensitive all of a sudden.

Emre’s hands covered her waist and lingered there for a moment, savoring the feeling of a handful of Leyla’s tender flash. Then he followed her sides up, stumbling over straps of her bra, breezing over tops of her breasts before reaching Leyla’s neck again. Emre pushed the shirt off her shoulders and it fell to the bed. His palms pressed to her back, bringing them closer together, breathing the same air and same tension – Emre found the clasp of her bra and opened it. Without leaning away, Emre took down that tiny piece of fabric off Leyla and his eyes finally followed his hands – from her eyes to her lips to her neck and down, down… He inhaled through gritted teeth, his chest heaving heavily, almost touching hers. Emre sat down on his knees, his eyes leveling with Leyla’s breasts and his hand rose to the same level as he looked at his wife with a question in his eyes.

\- May I?

Leyla smiled down on him and nodded, adding:

\- For now, and whatever comes next – you may!

Emre didn’t need to be invited more – his hands landed palm down of Leyla’s breast, fingers spreading to cover the shape of it. Leyla had perfect breasts, just the right size for his hands and mouth. Emre gulped hard thinking about this possibility – and he couldn’t think about anything else anymore! He should’ve waited, come to it gradually – but they were there, looking at him with cherry-top nipples, teasing him to find out what they tasted like!

Emre leaned in and closed his lips around dark-pink areola of Leyla’s right breast, while his hand repeated the circling motion around the heaviness of the left one. Leyla gasped and swayed into him, grabbing his shoulders to keep steady. Emre sucked in, flicking his tongue over pebbled nipple, feeling her body press into his touch more. Leyla’s fingers dug into him, draw lines across his shoulder blades and got lost in his hair, tugging him in. Emre switched to another nipple, and Leyla emitted short disappointed whine having lost contact with him. Once she felt his lips on her body again – sucking, licking, nibbling on the soft skin of her breast – Leyla sighted happily ‘yesssss!’, making Emre smile briefly between kisses.

Leyla moaned long, heavily, her head thrown back and her hair curtaining her body. Emre’s hand followed down her spine and then to the front of her pants, stopping at the button. Emre flicked the button open and felt Leyla stiffened automatically but he’d disregarded it this time – Leyla knew he would stop if she’d said so. Instead, Emre rose to his knees again, kissing his way up Leyla’s torso, and bit into the crook of her neck. Leyla circled her arms around Emre’s neck and locked in on keeping their bodies inseparable. Emre lowered Leyla to the bed behind her slowly, letting her adjust to laying position. But he didn’t think she’d noticed the change at all, her eyes not seeing anything for the things Emre was doing with his mouth and hands. His lips were everywhere, fleeting from one tender spot to the other… marking her skin with beard scratches… licking over barely visible bite marks on her waist, her upper arms, her wrists… And everywhere he touched her, her skin missed him already.

Emre’s hand opened a zipper of Leyla’s pants and his fingers dove under the elastic band of her panties, collected both garments and tug down carefully. Leyla noticed, surely, she did – but she didn’t care! As long as his lips marked every bit of newly uncovered skin, as long as his fingers pressed into crooks and hollows of her thighs – she didn’t care!

That is until Leyla finally registered that she was fully naked, and he was fully clothed. Her eyes shot open and she saw Emre, laying alongside her body, eyeing her hungrily, as if he was choosing the piece to bite into next. Leyla whimpered:

\- Emre?

Be brought his gaze to her face, love and adoration shining from within.

\- Leyla, you are exquisite!

Leyla’s hands shot to her chest to cover up but Emre caught them and quickly pressed to the bad, straddling her.

\- Oh no, wife, you’ll not deprive me of this! Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? And how tasty?

With that Emre dove to kiss her again, savor her skin where it already held a rosy tint of his attention earlier, drawing lines and circles with his tongue, mapping her body. Leyla was restless under him, not knowing what to do with the energy building inside of her, running in zigzag motion all over her body, causing little explosions where his lips touched her. And then she felt him touch her… there. Leyla’s hand automatically landed on his head and yanked him upward by the hair. Emre followed her lead.

Leyla said shyly, out of breath:

\- Emre, no…

His eyes were full of understanding and soft resolve.

\- Why, Leyla?

Leyla was turning red – both from embarrassment and the heat unwinding in her belly – but her voice still functioned.

\- It’s… is it… done?

Emre swallowed hard, his mind clouding with idea of what else ‘is done’ and what would she smell like, and taste like, and feel like when doing those things! His eyes and his hand landed on the soft triangle of short curly hairs at the apex of Leyla’s thighs, spreading them open just enough to find a little swollen fold – and press on it. Leyla’s hips buckled up to increase the pressure and Emre added another finger, pinching Leyla’s clitoris between them and swirling a little, eliciting involuntary movements and cries of pleasure. Emre looked back at Leyla’s face, she was confused and open at the same time.

\- Yes, Leyla, it is done. I’ll show you.

His mouth was immediately were his fingers just were, sucking and flicking that little nob, going in wide circles around it, diving in and out of her. Leyla’s knees bent instinctively, to allow him better, deeper access. Nerves in her body swirled into a spiral, tying everything to him, pulling it in… concentrating were his lips were soft against her slick flash, where his teeth were grazing the insides of her hips, where his tongue parted her folds with fire! The feeling was so foreign to her, so sweet and numbing and euphoric… like falling through bright rainbow.

Which didn’t end.

Leyla’s voice was intoxicating, her low guttural moans and cries went straight to his head, making him dizzy. And then, as her body started tensing up in those special short spasms, digging her nails through his hair, rocking into his mouth – Leyla started chanting his name, breathlessly, and it replaced all the other sounds. Because to Leyla his name explained all of what she’d felt right now, he was the reason and the purpose. He was the rainbow.

Emre… Emre-Emre-Emre… Nnnnnn… Ahh… Yes, Emre… hhhhaaaa… Emre, Emre, Emre, Emre… Mmmm-humn… Emreee…

And then – light! And the spiral sprung open, pulling Leyla into high arch! Consuming, drowning – and making her free to fly! Flashes of colors running behind her shut eyelids, silent screams with no air in her lunges – and waves upon waves of mind-numbing pleasure spreading from her core to every cell of her body, making her heavy and light in the same time.

… … …

The waves reseeded slowly, leaving comfortable tiredness in her body. Leyla opened her eyes and found Emre’s face right above her, looking at her with such wonder if he’d just witnessed a miracle. When he saw Leyla opining her eyes, Emre beamed a smile and asked:

\- How do you feel?

Leyla stretched experimentally, chasing tingling feelings running through her fingers and toes, and said:

\- Sated… And you?

It was a silly question, Leyla thought, because Emre took nothing of this experience, it was only for her. Emre, however, thought otherwise. He closed his eyes and ran his tongue over his teeth, tasting that tangy, salty flavor of Leyla’s desire for him… reminded him of mint. And that flavor, that scent, the fact that he was the one making her unravel like that… Emre wanted more of it, he wanted all of it, all of her!

He opened his eyes, and answered honestly, hoping that his honesty won’t scare her off:

\- Hungry.

Leyla raised on an elbow and pushed Emre a bit, making him lie down. Leyla’s hand rested on Emre’s neck and she’d unfastened few buttons to open his collar wider. Her hingers circled inside of the hollow at the base of his neck, mesmerized by how his muscles tensed under her simple touch. Emre rested his head on bent arm, other arm playing with the strand of her hair as he tried his best not to look further down Leyla’s naked body beside him. Leyla touched a finger to his chin, calling Emre’s attention to ask:

\- May I?

She’d motioned vaguely to his chest and Emre assumed his wife planned to undress him. He smiled:

\- Leyla, do whatever you want. I belong to you, remember?

Leyla licked her lips and her eyes sparkled with anticipation. She bent down, her hands getting busy with small white buttons, but that was not her main attention – that hollow was! Leyla licked it with flat tongue, mapping the soft patch of skin between the hard ridges – and Emre heaved, his chest expanding under her fingers. His hands went to her body, trying to catch her and press into her, but Leyla had other plans. She’d opened the shirt and was now exploring his chest in the same manner he did hers, with her tongue and lips and teeth. Leyla’s movements were experimental, alternating between harsh bites and feather-light kisses, like she was trying to understand which of these Emre liked best. Emre moaned, his hands clutching the covers, his eyes rolling back into his head when Leyla’s lips found his nipple. Emre liked all of what she was doing, soft and hard, all of it! His skin prickled where Leyla’s fingers passed over it, hot lines seeping into his body and melting his bones. He wanted more, but he also wanted to give her time to explore, but he also NEEDED MORE!

Leyla must’ve felt his wishes, or understood his moans, or heard his broken plea – ‘Leyla… please…’ – and her kisses explored further down, until she’d licked his navel, making Emre’s hips buckle up. Leyla used that motion and tugged down his shorts in one swift motion – and set back up, her hand to her mouth, eyes fixed on Emre’s member. It wasn’t shock or scare – it was as if Leyla saw an unknown creature – twitching and bobbing under her stare – and wasn’t sure what to do with it. Emre gritted his teeth, expecting the verdict – but he did not expect Leyla to touch him! Gentlym she flew her fingertips along the shaft down and back up, grazing the crown with her nail... that was the most excruciating and delicious tease of Emre’s life! Then, getting more creative, Leyla circled her fingers around his length, pulling down slowly once, twice, feeling him growing into her palm. Again, and again, his hoarse grunts commanding her speed and pressure… until it was getting too much! Too much too fast! Emre hissed and stopped Leyla, tenderly detaching her fingers. Leyla looked at him, surprised and a bit hurt:

\- Not good?

Emre shook his head vigorously – both as an answer and to shake off drunken haze mixed from her mint scent, salty taste, silken touch and sea-blue eyes that were piercing though his soul right this moment! It was not supposed to be like that!

\- No, Leyla, too good! I won’t keep it for long…

Leyla kissed his stomach, his navel, his hip… She whispered, warm breath tickling his skin:

\- It’s okay, Emre. Let it go…

Emre raised her by the shoulders and laid her on the bed, covering her from top to bottom. His hunger replaced every thought, every plan, every idea he had before – there was just Leyla left!

\- I will! Oh, I will!

His body on hers, strong and hot and everywhere, ignited now familiar sunshine in her, getting stronger, burning so sweet! Emre’s hands were on her, less gentle, more claiming, more urgent. Kisses, scratches, biting her lips, Leyla biting back, yanking his hair to bring Emre to her breasts, hissing, screaming, swearing…

\- Leyla…

\- Nnnngh…

\- Leyla… I can’t… I…

She felt him line up at her entrance, hot presence at her wet narrow opening. Leyla raised her hips and felt Emre straining himself from sinking in.

\- Emre, please…

\- Leyla, it will…

\- Shh… I belong to you. Come.

Her hands covered his buttocks and nails dug in, pushing him to her… and he fell. One move, full shaft, Leyla’s scream and Emre’s pained grunt. They stilled, Emre waiting for Leyla to do something, anything! He was afraid to look at her, praying fervently that it was the last time he’d hurt Leyla… but it probably wasn’t. Emre twitched inside of her and Leyla whined… he tried to pull out, but Leyla wouldn’t let him, anchoring him with her nails.

\- No… wait.

\- Leyla, I’m so sorry.

\- Kiss me.

His eyes said ‘what?’ but his lips were busy complying with Leyla’s request, kissing her mouth, her neck, her eyelids, her earlobes… passionately, hopefully, with abandon…

And then Emre felt Leyla move. Just a tiny rock of her hips, and another one, and one more – Emre met her half way, adjusting to her slow rhythm, pacing himself. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, reminding him the taste of their cherry-tops, making him blank out under the weight of his desire.

Leyla bent her knees and Emre slid in deeper, reaching to something she needed found. Something that engulfed her before and then hid, chased away by the pain. The pain was still there, but dulled, glossed over by the bittersweet sting of Emre’s thrusts, slow and powerful. But somehow Leyla knew that her glowing wasn’t coming back for ‘slow’ – it was resurfacing for ‘powerful’. Leyla whispered:

\- Harder…

\- Leyla…

\- Harder!

And harder she got! Emre collided into her, knocking out her breathe – but Leyla didn’t need one! This rhythm was her breath, this hammering was her breath, this overpowering feeling of losing herself in him – that was her breath! Leyla felt light-headed and weightless, soaring higher and higher and higher…

\- Emre!

\- Yessss!

Leyla shook in his arms, beautiful and wild and absent from this world. She called him there, her walls spasming around him, tugging in, promising heaven… One more thrust, another… Tight, so tight, Leyla was so tight! And Emre surrendered! His entire world exploded and seized to exist beyond bright white spot in the middle of primal darkness. Emre didn’t hear of feel anything beyond the shape of his women, her barely audible moans, her salty skin, her fingers caressing his back in soothing motions… And when puzzle pieces started falling back from the sky and clicking together to form the man again, Emre realized that somehow, he was shaped anew. Like pieces connected right this time.

Emre looked down at Leyla, her eyes closed, her head lolled to the side and smile on her lips. His own personal super-nova.

Emre closed his eyes and laid his head beside Leyla’s, whispering:

\- Oh Allah, thank you!

 


	6. Chapter 6

Dawn already colored the sky when Leyla was waking up slowly, lazily – and then jolted off her sleep when she'd realized she was alone in bed! Again?! Ah, Emre-bey, ah! What does she need to do to get him to stay in? Was he NOT sleeping in beds at night? Maybe, that was something he was ought to mention before their wedding, nuh?!

Fully intent to find out what keeps her husband away from her bed, Leyla threw on white robe she'd found in the bathroom cupboard – two sizes too big but that didn't matter now – and stormed out to the deck. Yet Emre was nowhere to be found. For a second Leyla got scared something may have happen to him but rhythmic splashes portside confirmed that her husband was merely taking a swim! Again!

Logical side of Leyla supplied that swimming was a normal pastime when vacationing on a boat in the middle of the sea, but married part of her shushed away all this reasonable nonsense! There was nothing reasonable about leaving her alone now... after last night... Emre was supposed to be there!

Leyla waited for him to get aboard, her stance wide, fists over the hips – she felt herself being very intimidating! That's not how Emre felt, though, when he saw her standing there, drowning in that big fluffy robe, eyes shooting lightnings, hair ablaze over her shoulders, bare feet, pink toes... yes, he didn't get to the toes last night, Emre remembered.

As Emre was eyeing her up and down with appreciative smile – clearly missing Leyla's holy wrath – and Leyla looked him over too. His broad chest glistened under the sun, droplets falling from his wet hair and streaming down in rivulets, following micro-patterns of his skin, pulling in at his waistband... and then down again.

Leyla knew enough to understand what was stranding the fabric of his shorts right now and she only realized she was staring directly at it, without blinking or breathing, when she'd heard Emre hiss and saw him clench his fists. He looked almost angry... or pained... or both.

Angry? How dare he? Leyla shook her head and remembered her righteous fury about being abandoned this morning – and shouted at him:

\- Do you have any aversion to sleeping or is it just me you can't be close to? Or are you just that big of a fan of swimming?

Leyla even stomped her foot to let him know she meant business! Which would've been more impressive if she were to hold her position as Emre approached her in three wide steps, unphased by rocking of the boat, and it made Leyla to step back in caution. Emre caught her and pressed to his body, one hand holding her tight by the waist, the other getting tangled in her hair, yanking it so Leyla had to throw her head back. Emre's face was so close, nostrils flaring, low growl tremoring in his throat, eyes flickering with something dangerous... Leyla was both a little scared and very aroused and this combination was making her knees shake.

Emre said in deceptively calm voice:

\- I am big fan of swimming. I am, however, even bigger fan of sleeping. Which, apparently, I can't do anymore, because every time I wake up by your side and feel your smooth soft body pressing into mine... and your breath on my chest... I have a rock-solid hard-on like some horny teenager! Which is what am I supposed to do with?

Leyla gulped, hypnotized by the green fire in Emre's eyes that were searching hers for answers. She wished she knew the answers, for her own sake. Leyla was new to this, but even her limited knowledge was enough to recognize that the heat pulling in her abdomen, weighing heavy on her thighs and making her want to rub on something to relieve the tingling – that was her body responding to Emre's words, to the promise of more. Should she dare?

\- Husband, - Leyla said breathlessly, - you could've stayed... we could've...

Emre kissed her, fast and sloppy, swallowing her words and gasps, eating her up. Leyla responded with all she had, grabbing a fistful of his wet hair and tugging him down to her, deepening their kiss, not letting him pull away...

He did pull away though, made a step back and bended, resting his hands on his knees. Emre breathed deeply, trying to calm down and thinking that no amount of swimming will save him from this woman if all it took is one kiss and semi-sentence to get him back to his morning state.

When he woke up, finding Leyla spread like a starfish across his chest, her hair caressing his neck, her arm and bent knee resting on his hips... and she'd smelled like salt and mint... They'd washed up this night, but she still smelled like that, like she wanted him... now, in her sleep. Emre traced his knuckles over Leyla's delicate side experimentally, making her moan in appreciation and press her hips into him. In her sleep, instinctively, not because he wanted her to, but because she wanted herself. It would be such a natural thing to do – to roll her over to her back, spread her knees and see if she'd tasted differently in the morning... to make her ready to be with him again... and then slide into her... to love her slowly, rocking with the rhythm of the waves that swayed the boat... basking in the glow of her desperate desire as she clawed his back... and deafening broken whispers of 'Emre... Emre... Oh, Emre, yes, Emre... Emre!'. And then follow her where nobody has taken him before because there was nobody like Leyla before...

That would be his perfect morning! Alas, instead of going with his best ideas forward, Emre remembered that it was his wife's first morning into womanhood and she might be chafing and even experiencing some pain for a day or two, so he needs to give her time and space – and not a hungry wake-up call! So Emre got up as silently as he could and took off for a swim. Which was now completely nullified by his wife's presence and the return of the ever-present heat in his groin. Great!

Emre looked at Leyla, trying to find the words to explain his disposition, about giving her time and all that jazz. But before he could, Leyla's gaze fell, and she hid deeper into her robe and sat down on a siderim. Her voice was somehow lost, unsure:

\- Was is... bad? Is this why you...

She didn't finish but looked to the side, where boundless sea spilled over the horizon. Emre huffed with irritation at his own stupidity and Leyla's recurring insecurities – of course, she'd consider his absence as some sort of judgment on her... repformance! Why, Leyla, why?!

Emre crouched in front of her, finding her hands in the folds of oversized robe.

\- Leyla, sevgilim, I only left because I didn't want to disturb you, because it may be too soon for you... But as far as I'm concerned, I'm ready and willing whenever you feel like it!

Leyla smiled and giggled:

\- You're just saying that to...

Emre contradicted, his tone very serious and honest:

\- Oh no, Leyla, I'm not 'just saying it', it's the very painful truth! I want you when you are asleep by my side because your body is just that sexy – long soft lines – and it's so close... I want you when you brush your hair because when you flip it over, I have this uncontrollable urge to bite your neck and leave a mark there... I want you when you talk, simply because your lips are moving! See, Leyla, thing is I want you all the time and now that I know what it feels like to have you, to be with you, to be inside you – I want you even more!

Emre kissed her fingers one by one as he was saying that, massaging her wrists in small circles with his thumbs. Leyla's jaw dropped open and she looked at Emre awestruck, lulled into some kind of trance by his words and his kisses. Emre asked:

\- Do you believe me?

She shrugged and gave him an honest answer:

\- I'll try. It's just that...

\- Yes, Leyla?

\- Oh, it's nothing, I didn't mean to say it.

Emre nodded and pressed issue further:

\- You didn't mean to say it, but you still thought of something. Do I have the right to know what makes you doubt my physical need for you?

His words were sour, hurt – but Leyla saw no reason for him to be upset with her, this situation was of his own doing! Maybe, he was right, maybe, she would still be hurting for few more days... or weeks... or months! And not in the way he was thinking!

Leyla shot upright, knocking Emre to land on the deck. She shouted with sarcasm:

\- Well, I don't know, Emre-bey! Why would I think that my Prince Charming might have something else on his mind other than me? Why indeed?

Leyla wiggled her hand out of the sleeve and started counting on her fingers:

\- For one, we've been married for two days and both times I wake up to a cold bed because my husband has a swim practice!

Emre hissed from below:

\- I'd told you why!

\- Yes, you did, not convinced though! Why wouldn't I be convinced? Oh, right, because I'm the furthest thing from my husband's type! For as many years as I've known you, you've been a rack to hang all types of long-legged brunette models with half a brain cell and reputation for miles! What would you possibly want with someone like me, insecure virgin?

\- Leyla, you are being unfair! I didn't marry any of them! I married you!

\- Ah, Emre-bey, thank you for bringing it up! You broke up with me, avoided me for weeks... And when I got engaged – you want me back suddenly! What am I? A conquest? The one that got away?

Emre jumped to his feet, fuming with anger. He may have made a mistake with leaving his wife in such a vulnerable state alone, but he did not deserve this! Why was she bringing it all up like this, into one big pile!

\- Leyla, stop it! If you want to discuss it, we will! But DO NOT dismiss our marriage like that! I love you and you know it damn well!

\- You DO NOT tell me what to do, Emre! I am your wife and not your assistant! Your assistant is yet another long-legged brunette who can't open a folder on a computer but can devise a whole Machiavellian plan on how to get on a date with you! How did she react to your marriage, that poor Melis? Did you tell her already?

Emre grabbed Leyla by her shoulders and shook her.

\- Leyla, what does she have to do with anything?! What's gotten into you?! We are on a honeymoon, ten minutes ago I was the happiest man in the universe and now my gorgeous wife is screaming nonsense in my face? What does Melis, or any other brunette have to do with us? I married you! I love YOU!

All at once, Leyla's body became limp and she practically hung in Emre's arms. She hid her face on his chest and Emre heard her broken whisper:

\- How do you know? You said that we'd waited for each other for too long, but that isn't true, is it? I've waited for you, Emre, for so long... And you'd only noticed me when you needed me to betray my sister...

Emre stilled, his body turning into stone, cold creeping up to his heart. She knew! Leyla may have not known all the details, or Aylin's part in it... but she knew he used her. She knew! Emre didn't think about 'how' – Leyla was smart... but he thought about 'when' – when did she figured it out? Just now? Or back when he broke up with her? Or when he'd told her in the park that he was afraid to disappoint her if she knew the truth? Did she know the truth already back then? But... but... she still married him? Why?!

Leyla's voice broke through:

\- We've been back together for three days and you proposed to marry me. To avoid problems with our families. We married in secret – to avoid problems with our families. Emre, we're not on a honeymoon – we are running away from our families. We turned off our phones, you left your car... we are running. But we can't do it forever, you said it yourself, we're coming back to Istanbul in three days.

\- Leyla...

\- What if we come back and you realize I'm not worth the trouble? What if I'm not worth fighting with your mother over?

\- Leyla...

She straightened up and whipped her cheeks with robe sleeves. Emre didn't even notice she was crying... Leyla attempted a smile:

\- I'm sorry, must be hormones or something like this. I'll go get dressed and make something for breakfast.

Before Emre had found something to say, Leyla tuned around and disappeared downstairs, leaving him disoriented and alone. What did just happen? Did they just have their first fight? Because by the way it was left hanging, it may be their last, if Emre doesn't come up with something and fast!

... ... ...

Emre opened the door to their bedroom and found Leyla standing before the opened cupboard, holding some garment and, most likely, looking for something to match it. By the way her eyes were closed Emre could guess it would take her some time to actually find something to wear. She was very distracted and immersed into her thoughts... Good! That's exactly where Emre needed her!

\- Leyla, - he started cautiously not to startle her, - can we talk?

Leyla looked up, focused on his face and nodded slowly. Her answer was unsure but that was enough for Emre to proceed:

\- First and foremost, we need to establish few things. One, I love you. That is the reason I married you. Two, I want you. And I regret leaving you alone these past days and I promise I'll never leave your bed ever again!

Leyla nodded and quipped with tentative smile:

\- You may leave it if I'm not there...

\- I won't sleep in a bed where there's no you, Leyla!

\- Don't be ridiculous, Emre, I may be away and...

\- Leyla, is that what we are discussing now?

Leyla pressed her lips together to stop the discord in their conversation and nodded for Emre to continue. Turned out, he wanted for her to continue, when he asked:

\- Leyla, tell me why you agreed to marry me. You refused me first, you had your reasons, I did not agree to them, but I wanted to respect your wishes. And then you called in the middle of the night and agreed. What changed your mind? I need to know to continue this conversation...

Leyla stepped away from the cupboard and came to sit on the bed silently. She motioned for Emre to come too and he set on the other side of the bed, giving Leyla enough space to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Leyla was quiet for a while and Emre was beginning to get worried if she genuinely couldn't find the reason and was about to regret her rushed decision.

Then Leyla spoke:

\- Your mother. Huma-hanim changed my mind.

\- How?! Never thought my mother would convince you to marry me!

\- She didn't. She'd convinced me you wouldn't.

\- Wha-... What?!

Leyla sighted and fidgeted with her ring, looking at it with tender sadness.

\- Huma-hanim came to our house and did everything possible to destroy Sanem's chances with Can-bey. I'm sorry, Emre, she's your mother, but I have to say this...

\- I know, Leyla, don't worry, my mother can be like that. What actually happened?

\- Well, nothing serious, really. But she'd proposed for Sanem and Can-bey to live without marriage, then she laughed off our family's plans for wedding, said she'd need at least one year to plan the event properly... We all understood she'd do anything to never let this marriage happen!

Emre thought back to mother's comments regarding 'war with Sanem' and how she promised to find him a good match – yes, Huma-hanim would stop at nothing to command her sons' lives! But that still didn't explain...

\- Leyla, but how did you decided to...

Leyla stretched her hands and grasped Emre's forearm, squeezing it hard, and said, tears streaming down her face:

\- Emre, she would never accept us! Ever! And I'd told you – I can't lose you! I panicked! One day she'd come and tell you to choose and you'll choose her, and I couldn't lose you! I know you proposed in a spur of a moment; I know! I'm sorry I used it like that, to tie you, I'm so sorry!

Leyla fell to the bed, hiding her face in her palms, crying for real now. Her shaking frame seemed so small, so fragile in that big ball of white cotton. Emre heard her repeating again and again 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry'.

This wasn't happening, Emre just didn't believe it! Leyla was crying herself out for using HIM when she'd JUST admitted knowing he used HER! And her pain and her guilty conscious were for nothing – she didn't do anything wrong! She misunderstood the whole thing!

Emre moved closer and kissed Leyla's head, inhaling deeply to remind himself that she was still here, his beautiful Leyla was still with him and this whole nightmare of misunderstandings would be over soon!

\- Leyla...

\- Hm?

\- Sevgilim, look at me, please.

Leyla raised her beautiful eyes, stormy-blue with red tinge of brimming tears and sniffed. Emre dried her tears with his thumbs, cupping her face, marveling at how special she was to him, this woman.

\- Leyla, in a sense you were right. Mother does play a matchmaker for me ever since I was old enough, I think she'd brought Melis to work for me for the same reason and she wouldn't stop there...

Leyla sniffed again and her face scrunched in the anticipation of new tear fall but Emre rushed to continue:

\- Shh, Leyla, it's not like this. I don't mind her efforts because they don't touch me the way only you did. I love my mother and I care for her – but I DO NOT care who she thinks is the best woman for me. Because I already know the answer, I hold it in my arms right now.

\- Emre, she will never... I mean, she will make you...

\- ... chose? I know. I knew that when I proposed to you. That is why I proposed to you!

\- So you... got scared too?

Emre felt Leyla stiffen as if expecting a direct hit, bracing herself. If he ever was to be honest, that was now!

\- Yes, Leyla, I got scared. I got scared that she would plan out my whole life, including whom I marry, and when push came to shove, make me choose. And I'll chose you. I'll always chose you, Leyla!

Leyla leaned into Emre's chest, dissolving into his warmth and calm. She wanted to live here forever, in the circle of his arms, in the light of his love. Leyla touched her fingers to his bare chest, drawing little circles, and asked softly:

\- Why then? If you were sure to choose me, why propose so early? We could've waited, could've done it differently... why so fast?

\- And we will do it differently, hayatim, one year from now, remember? I just didn't want to wait and fight my mother every step of the way. And the only thing that would make her think is our marriage... she wouldn't stop at breaking my heart – for my own good, of course – but she wouldn't dare to touch my image, my place in society. And that makes you a part of the deal now.

Leyla pinched him and said in a stern voice:

\- Spare me the drama, Emre! Did you marry me to protect me from your mother?

Emre wasn't even exaggerating on this one:

\- Yes, I did. And I realize that it also affects your parents and they didn't deserve it and we will deal with it later... but as for my mother, this ring, - Emre kissed Leyla's ring finger and brought her hand back to his chest, right over his pounding heart, - this ring will make Huma-hanim think twice before going against you. You are now a part of me, and with all her faults and vices, my mother does love ME. And she will love you too.

Leyla sighted:

\- I hope you are right. But you love me – and it's enough. It will always be enough.

\- I'll take always.

Emre kissed Leyla's forehead and laid her over the bad carefully. She looked startled for a moment but Emre said 'It's okay, we'll just stay here for a while, you need to rest' and Leyla relaxed. Emre gathered her in comfortable embrace, her head right under his chin, as she'd listened to his steady heartbeat...

An hour later, when she woke up for the second time this morning, her husband was right by her side, keeping her in his arms. 'Good', - Leyla thought to herself and went back to sleep. The day could wait to start for another few minutes.

 


	7. Chapter 7

When Leyla finally decided to get up, it was already 9 am in the morning and hunger is what woke her up. Emre wasn’t by her side but Leyla decided to let it pass because she knew exactly where he was – in the kitchen, cooking. She’d heard him sing something softly and chuckled – her husband was NOT a ‘classically-trained opera singer’! So she’d only had to figure out what else he wasn’t to understand what of those four things he’d mentioned two days before he actually was! Leyla hoped he wasn’t an equestrian, she was a little afraid of horses. But then again, she was afraid of sailing at first too and it turned out fine! And she was pretty afraid of her first wedding night… and that turned out absolutely amazing and beyond everything she’d ever dared to hope! Maybe it’s just a matter of who’s the teacher?

With those memories coloring her thoughts in shades of pink and tingling, Leyla went to find something to eat and her husband. This time – in that order!

Lela found him fast, because kitchen was really small and Emre wasn’t. He was standing in the middle of it, wearing light green capri shorts and an apron over naked chest – Leyla very much appreciated that combination! He’d noticed her immediately, dropping the vegetables he was chopping and going around the counter to peck her in the cheek. Emre’s kiss was slow, lingering, he inhaled Leyla’s scent deeply and she’d shivered feeling zing of pleasure traveling along her spine. Emre straightened up and shot her an understanding smile, like he knew what she was going through. Leyla hoped it was because he was going through something similar.

She thought back to just few hours ago, their conversation about desire, love and their fears going into this marriage. It seemed long time ago even though it was just this morning, but it was always like this with Emre – everything they’d experienced together immediately became part of her, past and present and future, so time reference was not something Leyla ever payed importance to. Her relationship with Emre always felt new – and eternal.

They will have more time to talk about important things, but right now, with Emre humming some popular song and fresh bouquet of pink Şebboy flowers sweetening the air, Leyla felt light and not serious at all.

She came to the other side of kitchen counter and peaked into the bowl in the center. Leyla asked:

\- What are you cooking?

Emre looked up from cutting board and put the knife aside. He shrugged and pointed into small bowl of olives closer to Leyla:

\- Pass me that, please. As for the menu, nothing fancy – just variation of Greek Salad.

Leyla passed the olives, but not before plopping few into her mouth. She gurgled, trying to talk while chewing, and earned herself stern look from Emre. She chewed more carefully and when she was certain she wouldn’t choke on her words, Leyla asked:

\- How is it different from usual Greek Salad?

\- Mostly, in the sauce – I take few herbs, like thyme and oregano, and few mustard seeds, and few olives – and squash them together before adding olive oil. Oh, and Feta cheese is caramelized in vine!

Leyla pressed her lips and furrowed her brows at that description. Emre nodded at her, surprised:

\- What? You don’t eat caramelized Feta? I know you drink wine!

\- No, it’s not that. It’s just if that is your definition of ‘nothing fancy’, I should be signing up for some culinary courses, because it sounds about as the fanciest Greek Salad I’d ever eaten!

Emre laughed as he started to cut the herbs, slowly and carefully – Leyla sighted in relief, seeing how he wasn’t doing that master chef’s speed-cutting thing they showed on TV, otherwise Leyla would’ve been even more intimidated by his culinary skills. Emre supplied his opinion on the matter:

\- It’s okay, I can feed myself. I’d been doing that most of my life, mom being out fixing her personal life and all. Also, thankfully, I’m rather healthy so I can eat whatever. I’d survived on sandwiches and fizzy drinks throughout my college days, eaten between classes and on the go… so if you feel like cooking – that’s great, but if you don’t want to – don’t stress about it!

Leyla raised her eyebrows and shook her head:

\- Well, it pays to have such a modern non-Turkish educated husband – you are foregoing the whole concept of wife’s place being in the kitchen. By the way, I do know how to cook, but my cooking is more traditional than Greek cuisine, I’m afraid.

Emre dropped what he was doing and leaned over watching her intently. Leyla felt she knew what he was going for and leaned over too, catching his lips half-way. They kissed softly, with no urgency, lazily – very vacation style. When Emre leaned back, he said:

\- Leyla, even before I loved you, I already knew you have too much brain in that pretty head of yours to ever be reduced to home kitchen appliance – both because you wouldn’t let it happen and because it would be such a waste of your talents! So now I’m not going to turn into ‘traditional’ husband and demand you be my housewife just because I want you to stay home as much as possible.

Leyla giggled:

\- And you do? Want me to stay home?

Emre shrugged and admitted:

\- Of course, I do! Once we buy a house, that is. But I’m just a man, sevgilim, my primitive mind wants to keep you under lock and key to make sure no one would ever find out what a treasure you are and try to steal you from me! I try to be civilized about but you are too beautiful and that makes it too hard!

Leyla flashed pink and waved her head shyly:

\- You’re exaggerating, Emre!

He shook his head too, scratching his chin.

\- Which part? About me being barely contained barbarian or you being extremely, sinfully beautiful? Because I’m not exaggerating on any of these accords!

\- Oh, come on! In our family, Sanem is more beautiful! I was always fine with being adequate…

Emre whipped his hands with a paper towel and walked around the counter, Leyla circling in her rotating chair to follow his movements. He came close to her knees, pressed together, and place his hands on the counter on each side of Leyla. Emre’s face was so close, she could feel his breath on her face when he spoke:

\- I do not argue your sister is beautiful. But you, my dear wife, should be illegal! Your sky-deep eyes, your swan neck that brings out my feral instincts, curtain of your hair in my fist, lean body made of soft marble… you are driving me crazy, Leyla, and I know I’m not the only one! I’ve seen other men look at you like they don’t need their teeth or something…

Leyla smacked him at this ridiculous threat to his imaginary rivals – Emre wasn’t a violent man, she knew that! But some very secretive female part of her, somewhere very deep inside, basked at his compliments and warm heat of being desired that much!

Emre blinked, and Leyla noticed his irises widening, overpowering deep-green circles in response to his growing desire – and by the pressing between her knees Leyla definitely knew something was growing! Leyla’s legs parted instinctively, bringing Emre a little closer to her, his hips pressing into the insides of Leyla’s thighs.

Leyla leaned in and inhaled Emre’s scent at the crook of his neck, making Emre grunt and throw his head back. He smelled of sea salt, herbs, grass and oak. Leyla felt dizzy immediately, and she finally understood what he’d meant about feral instincts – his neck was definitely asking for it! And so Leyla went in, just closing her teeth and lips over the tender flash covering his jugular vein. Emre inhaled deeply and moaned her name on the long exhale. Leyla responded with one more kiss-bite, closer to the center of his neck, then one more – until she’d gotten to that little hollow she’d tasted this night. Leyla licked it and then blew cool air on it, watching Emre shivered and clench his teeth. His eyes were shut tight and breathing uneven, but he was still standing upright, so Leyla figured she may continue. She brought her hands to his chest, digging her nails just enough to leave thin red trails but not enough to scratch him for real. Leyla traced blue lines of Emre’s skin, memorizing patterns and spots that made his gasp or hold his breath. His apron was very much of the way of her getting to his nipples and Leyla tugged on the offending garment, whispering into Emre’s neck ‘Off’.

Emre threw his arm behind the back and yanked on the loops of the knot, untying them and taking the apron off in one urgent motion. He opened his eyes and looked at Leyla, looping his fingers behind her robe belt. Emre’s gaze slipped past Leyla, to the kitchen counter where their breakfast salad was waiting. When he spoke, Emre’s voice was harsh, like he’d forgotten how to use it in the last few minutes:

\- Breakfast? Or..?

Leyla gulped with difficulty, feeling that she had no moisture left in her mouth, as it all went down to the area where Emre’s hand waited at the entrance to her robe. She nodded – ‘Or’.

… … …

Emre grabbed Leyla by the waist and lifted her to the counter, moving all the food and tableware to the far side. The counter was the perfect height, Leyla noticed as soon as Emre stepped in between her open thighs and pressed into her hard. There were still layers of fabric between them – her robe, his shorts – but both could feel the pull between their bodies yearning to connect. Leyla swayed her hips into him, seeking friction to release her from numbing hold that was spreading through her veins. Like effect of alcohol, but stronger, wilder, enticing her to move, to seek, to get! Leyla’s hands landed on Emre’s waist and found ties of his shorts, pulling on one strand – but Emre’s whisper stopped her.

\- Wait. Or it will be over too soon.

Leyla listened, not sure what was she supposed to do now. She wanted to do something! Leyla circled her hands around Emre’s back, connecting their bodies from pelvis up, and started traveling her open palms over the ridges of Emre’s back muscles, hoping it was soothing to him.

It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. To be honest, Emre didn’t think there was ANYTHING Leyla could do that he wouldn’t find enticing, so he tried focusing on breathing steadily and not noticing how Leyla’s scent changed to mint and her breath tickled short hairs on his chest. Emre knew he wasn’t going to keep it together for long, and the only way was to get Leyla ahead of him.

Emre leaned out just a bit and untied Leyla’s robe, his hand dove into the crack, moving the fabric to the side, so that it only hang on Leyla’s shoulders. Leyla dropped her hands and wiggled out of the robe that pooled around her hips in soft waves. Air hitched in Emre’s throat when his gaze landed on her dark-pink nipples, already perked up, waiting for his lips. Emre didn’t let them wait for long, bending down and catching one of the cherry stones between his teeth and giving it just the tiniest of bites.

Leyla arched and rested her hands on the counter – to keep the arch, to call him in for more of that sweet torture. Emre headed the call, alternating between biting and kissing and sucking and licking Leyla’s breasts, narrow hollow between them, her nipples that became almost painfully sensitive to his play. Leyla’s moans became more audible, her instructions more demanding, though not very varied – Leyla simply wanted ‘More!’. More of his touches, more of the burns that his beard left on her skin, more of his hands running everywhere his lips weren’t, more of everything!

When that ‘more’ wasn’t enough and Leyla’s body started trembling from unreleased tension, Emre’s fingers found her folds, covered in short curly hairs, and started exploring there.

She was so wet! So wet already! Emre started seeing white circles behind closed eyelids, and his dick, painfully strained in his shorts, started jerking in rhythmic bursts. Because she’d waited for him! She wanted him! He’s got to go!

Emre hissed, his self-control dissipating under the blazing heat of their bodies. He dipped one finger in, mapping the inner walls of Leyla’s body… she was so slick, so slick! Damn it!

Emre added another finger, going deeper and in circles, bending them so that his knuckles pressed around. At one of the connection spots, just as he was hoping for, Leyla jerked violently, pressing into his fingers and screaming out loud, her hips starting to move just to find that spot again. Emre thought with some possessive pride ‘Aha! Found it!’ and brushed over that sensitive area again, making Leyla scream out his name and buckle up.

Leyla was going under, and she knew that. But there was no way she was going alone! Leyla opened her eyes just to focus a bit and grabbed a fistful of his hair on the top of his head – not a passionate tug, a command!

\- Emre… Nnnnnaaaaa… Emre… Mmmmnnhh… Emre!

That was his cue. With one hand Emre moved Leyla to the edge of the counter and she’d spread her hips wider for him. With the other hand he pulled down his shorts, letting himself free finally. Emre took himself in his palm and aligned with Leyla’s wet hot entrance, working in just the tip, just to see if she may still be hurting on the inside, giving her time to adjust.

But Leyla was having none of it! She wanted more then, she wanted more now! Everything inside her stormed and howled – and his carefulness was depriving her of that one final lightning she was missing! Her hands circled Emre’s shoulders, her legs locked around his hips and Leyla sobbed into his neck:

\- Please, Emre… Please…

Thunder was fast and deep and all at once – and he didn’t stop! He came, and took, and demanded, and got everything she had to give! Emre’s first thrust lifted her off the counter and his hands caught her buttocks and squeezed them. Leyla whimpered to this new sensation and bit into his shoulder. Emre growled and responded with another hard thrust, followed by another, and more, more, more! Longer, deeper, stronger – they were chasing upwards to where the light was waiting for them, bright and blinding!

And the lightning struck! Leyla screamed of the top of her lunges, ceasing to exist for few very long moments, and then spiraled down to Earth in violent tremors that shook her body inside and out. Her muscles contracted and enveloped him, sucking Emre into the void of her pleasure, where it was so hot, so…. ssssss… so… ahhhhh… tight! Leyla… oh… aaah! Leyla!!!

She held him close, feeling her husband spasming and jerking inside of her, his hands tight around her body, as if Leyla was his life line. She’d heard Emre whisper:

\- I never knew… I never imagined…

And Leyla didn’t need to ask the ending of those sentences. She knew. She’d imagined. Not it these exact details, but she knew the destination and Emre was the only one she’d take that journey with! Her partner, her friend, her lover. Her husband.

… … …

\- So, about that breakfast…

\- Yes, what about it?

Emre was getting out of shower and drying his hair with a towel, when Leyla met him outside, biting into an apple and looking at him expectantly. Emre smirked:

\- Still hungry?

Leyla nodded, completely ignoring innuendo in his question. She quipped:

\- I could finish the salad myself since you’d already done the sauce but I’m not sure how to caramelize Feta cheese, I’d never done it before.

Emre walked over to the kitchen cupboard and took out a bottle of wine and culinary torch.

\- Come, I’ll show you.

Leyla followed, picking up apron as she went and tying her hair into high bun. Emre bit his lip and huffed at that sight, feeling familiar tingling at the base of his spine. Leyla looked down at his twitching cock picking up in size and said in a serious tone, swinging her pointing finger side to side before his nose:

\- No, Emre-bey, breakfast first!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan for this chapter, it's not in the structured out story. Which is why there isn't much plot in it, just Emre and Leyla being honeymoon-y. But I started writing another conversation they will have in the next chapter or so and realized that they just need a break from the heavy emotional stuff! And I know there are still many things they have to work through and discuss before they can come, but sometimes one just needs time to be silly and joyful. So this chapter was just for them to enjoy being newlyweds =) Hope, you'd enjoyed it too =)


	8. Chapter 8

Breakfast was great, mostly because Leyla learned how to cook with culinary torch and went ahead roasting – and in some case straight up burning – pieces of bread and fruits and feeding them to Emre. They were fire-hot and burnt him on more than one occasion, but he didn’t dare to tell her, his wife was having so much fun!

After that they’d continued with sailing lessons, Leyla getting better and better at the craft, making Emre just a little bit jealous. At some point Leyla managed to correct the sails just right, making Serena lean over water and course ahead like that for few minutes. When the boat straightened elegantly, Emre threw his hands in the air and huffed in frustration.

- You know it’s not fair that you’re that good just after few lessons?! I had to work my ass off for the entire summer to get my first successful heeling! You could just pretend to be bad at something!

Leyla pressed he lips really tight but laugh still escaped her and she’d doubled over. Emre looked at her offended and started crouching up to her with devilish blink in his eyes. Leyla felt the danger, stepped back and circled behind the sails, seeing glimpses of him between the sheets. Leyla tried to placate her envious husband:

- Emre, I promise I’m horrible in many things! I can’t cook fancy dinners, my English is horrible, I don’t know how to waltz and I’m afraid of horses!

Emre still circled, making Leyla to step away and around. She tried looking down from time to time but she’d still tumbled down over lines and knots, giving Emre split second advantage to get closer to her. He said in smooth voice, almost purring:

- What do I care about any of those things? If you ever want to learn them, you’ll master them just as quick. And I’ll teach you to ride horses, I think you’ll like it.

Leyla though to herself three things – ‘Equestrian!’ and ‘So, dancing or fencing? I hope he’s dancing!’ and ‘I bet he looks amazing on a horse, I might go for a lesson just to see him do that!’ – but her modest self didn’t say any of those things out loud. Instead, Leyla dug around in her memory to come up with something she’d failed at that would sooth Emre’s wounded ego. The thought came momentarily:

- Emre, I can’t drive! We’ve had courses in the university, I tried, and I’d failed the exam two times! I’m hopeless!

Emre stopped his approach for a second, surprised at this admission. Leyla? Failed? These two words in one sentence? But then he’d remembered his goal and continued hunting – for his pray was a delicious one! In order to dull her attention, Emre suggested:

- You don’t need to drive, you’ve got me, I can drive you wherever you need to go.

Leyla smiled back, not fooled by his peace offering:

- Emre, you are being unreasonable, you can’t be by my side at all times…

- But maybe, - and Emre suddenly jumped and squeezed between the sails, catching Leyla by the waist and whispering to her ear, - I can try!

Emre then proceeded to tickle Leyla mercilessly, fully aware of what were her most sensitive spots. Leyla wiggled and laughed, trying to escape his masterful fingers. This time she paid no attention to her movements, focused only on her husband and – long story short – stumbled over something and flew straight off the board, splashing into the water with an angry shout. Emre jumped in immediately, catching Leyla’s limp form and dragging her to the ladder. Leyla gurgled and coughed, whining a bit about her bad luck and how Emre had nothing to be envious about. Emre was just happy she didn’t seem injured, his pretend grievances long forgotten.

It took some time to get out of water because wet cotton robe was heavy and uncomfortable to move around, and Leyla dismissed the option of shedding that thing in the water, but they finally got on board. Leyla ran up to the shower to rinse off salt water and Emre had found another robe and few towels for Leyla to dry her hair. Shower door opened and Leyla’s hand showed up, followed by her voice ‘Towel, please’. Emre briefly considered joining her in the shower but then thought better of it as she was too stressed for such explorations. ‘Later’, he thought to himself and gave her the towel.

Emre said loudly so that Leyla would hear him through the sound of running water:

- The robe is by the door. I’ll go up, I need to fix the sails, the wind is beam reach!

Leyla responded something but the sound was muffled so Emre just shrugged and left to tend to their sails’ arrangement. By the time he was done, and Serena sailed smoothly along the shore, Leyla was already on deck. She set down, drying her hair with towels Emre prepared for her, watching how he steered the wheel, looking up from time to time, picking on some hints from the wind filling their sails – but Leyla honestly couldn’t understand what it was Emre was seeing. She asked:

- What is ‘beam reach’?

Emre looked at her and said:

- ‘Beam reach’ means that wind is blowing straight over the side of the boat, perfect position for the speed.

Leyla looked at the shore – it didn’t feel like they were moving that fast, they were sailing much faster before. Emre noticed her confusion and then pointed to the top of their mainsail. Leyla followed the direction, as her husband explained:

- See, how wind fills our mainsail, the sheet is strained and wide?

Leyla nodded and he continued:

- But you see, - Emre pointed to their mizzensail, - our smaller sail is quint, less full? That’s because I’d fixed the booms in a way that wind only fills one of them and our speed is relatively slow. But if I were to fix them in parallel and let the wind to fill them both, we’d pick up the speed and start heeling – as you did earlier. But the wind is too strong now, I’m not sure I can handle Serena like this, and I don’t want to capsize our boat.

Leyla nodded along to this information, gradually picking up interest in sailing. She asked:

- Tell me more… Why do you turn the wheel if we’re propelled by the direction of the wind and position of sails?

Emre beamed a smile, happy that his wife was sharing into one of his passions and went on to explain – and show – how sailing mechanics worked. Once they’d gotten close to the furthest part of the Datça Peninsula, Emre got Leyla to the helm to steer by herself – and she was perfect in that too! Leyla argued she just had a benefit of the great teacher and strong support system – mostly referring to Emre’s hands on each side of her, helping her to turn the wheel when Serena was not cooperating. At some point Leyla gave up fighting with the boat and huffed in frustration:

- You make it look so easy! I feel like I’m trying to physically lift the entire boat!

Emre smirked and traced the outline of the wheel with his hand, patting it a bit.

- You just have to get used to Serena, she’s tough at the beginning but she’s just a kitten when you get to know her better!

Leyla pouted and set at the side bench by the helm.

- I think your girl is just jealous of me, that’s it! She was supposed to be to women, seeing how she used to belong to two eligible bachelors!

A little bit earlier Emre told Leyla that he’d landed Patrick money to buy Serena and, even though Patrick tried to pay him back, Emre never took his friend’s money. So, they’d agreed on sharing the boat, even though Serena’s upkeep was on Patrick’s side. Leyla understood this situation to mean that Emre kind of owned the boat, so Leyla didn’t have to feel bad about steeling it from Patrick during the sailing season.

Emre shrugged off the suggestion:

- I don’t think Serena has ever seen other women here. Mom doesn’t like sailing – too messy – and Patrick’s family has its own motorsailer, ‘Night Wings’. It’s actually little smaller but it has…

As interested as the story of yet another motorsailer might have been, Leyla wasn’t interested in that. She was much more interested in the whole ‘no women on board’ story.

- But why? I thought you’d bring your…, - Leyla chewed on her lip a little and then said in a small voice, -… dates here? Seems flashy enough…

Emre raised an eyebrow at ‘flashy’ remark but decided to dock this conversation for later. He addressed Leyla’s immediate question:

- No women were allowed on board, actually. I’d invited mom, but I always knew she won’t take me up on that invitation…

Weird thought came to Leyla’s mind and she’d immediately voiced her guess:

- Please, tell me it’s not some outdated superstition of ‘women bring bad luck to ship’! I’d read about in the books, but I never imagined somebody as modern as you…

- Nothing like that…, - Emre interjected, - Serena was always supposed to be a place for Emre… not Emre Divit. You know, I always…

He was about to say something else when sudden gush of wing filled the sails and pulled the boat portside. Emre swore under his breath and yanked the wheel to the left to straighten the boat.

Next hour was dedicated to folding the sails in flakes, neatly fixed over the boom. Leyla helped the best she could but Emre ended up doing most of the work. At the end, they’d turned on the engine and went to the nearest bay, where Serena has dropped an anchor a little away from the shore. As Emre explained, there were no settlements here so there would be nothing to do on shore. That meant they would have to figure out their lunch/dinner arrangements with what they’ve got in the kitchen. Leyla checked their provisions and nodded with satisfaction – she could think of at least three different main courses she could cook now and thus not to feel completely useless as a sailing companion.

Leyla went to start with cooking while Emre finished up with tying the sails. When eggplants were almost done and the filling was simmering in the pan, Leyla felt Emre’s hands circling her body and his body pressing into hers from behind. Emre buried his nose in Leyla’s hair and inhaled deeply, saying:

- Mmm, smells delicious…

- That’s garlic and ginger, very aromatic combination…

Emre inhaled again, kissing the back of Leyla’s head, and said:

- That too smells nice…

Leyla shivered as pleasure ran down her spine, and then stopped herself. Leyla shoved Emre with her shoulder a bit and chastised him lovingly:

- Emre, let me finish it, I don’t want to burn the imam…

- The what?

Leyla smiled feeling his advances stop out of surprise. She explained:

- What I’m cooking, it’s called ‘Fainting imam’.

Emre’s head showed up above her shoulder as he peaked a glance to the stove and said:

- I’m sure there a story about imam and his unfortunate fainting spell but it smells so good and I don’t really care if I faint myself!

Growling of Emre’s stomach followed up with his words perfectly. Leyla stirred the filling and turned off the stove. She turned around and commanded:

- Go, take out the plates, I’ll be done in a minute.

Emre saluted:

- Ay-ay, captain!

… … …

They ate in comfortable silence, or so Leyla thought. At some point she’d realized that Emre wasn’t just silent as he’d observed the horizon and periodically glanced at her – he was deep in his mind, getting more agitated by the minute to the point of fidgeting. Leyla couldn’t take it and asked:

- Emre, what is it? Why are you worried?

Emre inhaled and nodded with conviction, as if taking a deep dive.

- Leyla, I just have to know… When did you figure it out? That I…

His voice became so small, so quiet… Emre felt like hiding, stepping out of this conversation – but he knew they had to have it at some point so there was no turning back… at least, not for Emre…

- Leyla, when did you know I was using you to get information about the company?

Leyla stiffened and looked away. Yes, she’d promised him not to do it anymore, but it was too painful to remember that realization. That moment when she’d understood that his sudden interest in her started when Emre had left the office and stopped just as abruptly… When Leyla had cried her eyes out and decided to give a normal life a chance… with Osman.

She’d realized that Emre was still waiting for her response when he’d touched her elbow and whispered:

- When?

Leyla gulped with difficulty and said:

- When you broke up with me. When you’d said that nothing between us could be possible… because I always knew that, and you’d always known that. So, there was no point for you to even start it… unless you wanted something from me.

Emre closed his eyes shut and thought back to the moment he’d said those words to Leyla. That painful moment when his dreams shattered against the wall of his fears and insecurities… and how unworthy of love he’d felt in that moment… and so many moments after that… How his soul tore his chest apart when Leyla got engaged to be married to a better man, deserving man, good man… and how Emre still stolen her away from him… because Emre Divit was raised to be selfish!

When he spoke, Emre’s voice was filled with sorrow and guilt:

- I promise, I would have told you… eventually. I thought of it ever since the moment you’d said you’d broken up with Osman. Ever since that day I’d asked for one more chance… I though about telling you! I swear!

Leyla smiled a small smile and touched his hand, caressing the back of his palm with her tender fingers.

- I know, Emre, I know. You’d already told me the reason in the park, when you’d said that Aylin was holding my disappointment over you. If I ever doubted my guess, that was all the confirmation I needed then. There is nothing else that can destroy me like that…

Emre nodded and entwined their fingers, grabbing her hand tight.

- You know I love you and would never willingly hurt you, right?

Leyla nodded:

- I do, Emre. I know you won’t try to hurt me.

Emre noticed her careful answer and how Leyla has omitted a part of his promise. He untwined their fingers and took Leyla’s face in his hands. Her eyes were so clear now, so serene…

- Leyla, you know I love you, right? You know I’ll do my absolute best to make you the happiest woman on Earth, do you?

Leyla blinked – once, twice – until single tear rolled down her cheek and she’d whispered:

- Why? Why do you love me?

That was an incredulous question and Emre couldn’t think of anything better than to answer it with the same question:

- Why do you love me then?

Leyla pressed her lips together in a futile attempt to keep her emotions in – but they rushed out with more words:

- Emre, I’d loved you since the day I came in for my interview and you’d told me I’m overqualified for the job, but you still want me… I love you because you are smart and funny and handsome… and you love your mother even though you know her flaws… and you can be incredibly faithful even when losing a battle… and you’re creative and passionate about your plans… and because you have the most beautiful eyes I’d seen in my life…

Emre chuckled despite the serious and delicate tone of conversation – look who’s talking about the beautiful eyes! The girl with a copy of the entire skyline!

But Leyla wasn’t finished there. She’d touched his forehead to his and closed her eyes. Her broken voice was barely audible, but it thundered through Emre’s body, when Leyla said:

- But I… I didn’t change in the last three years. I’m the same as the day I fell in love with you… and I can’t see why you fell in love with me after so much time had gone by. I want to think of something that is different and the only thing I come up with is that I helped you to figure out some things… and you’re just grateful. But gratitude does not last forever. Not for a lifetime, Emre… And you’ll… regret it later.

Why? Why did he ever start this conversation? To apologize? Then how did it come to the deepest fear his wife’s soul – her pure, beautiful soul – held? And why was it THIS fear? After all the terrible things he’d done in his life, alter all the lies and crimes… his love for Leyla was his absolute, redeeming truth, his saving grace. And that is what she’d doubted about them?!

Emre cleared his throat, trying to find words to explain his inner self… but there were no words like that. Instead, Emre kissed Leyla’s forehead and inhaled her deeply, trying to memorize this moment in detail, to hold himself accountable for times to come. The only thing he could say was:

- Leyla, I don’t know how to explain it to you now… To tell you that you live in me… you are the best part of me, you make me stronger and better… you make me a person I always wanted to be but never could… and I’ll keep you safe inside of me forever… and just as long I’ll be showing you how much you mean to me… how much I love you, my Leyla.

Leyla dove her head and rested it on Emre’s chest, listening to his heart chanting her name in distinctive, hurried beats. Leyla, Leyla, Leyla!

Emre kissed the top of Leyla’s head, closing his eyes in contempt. Leyla may not have understood how much she’d meant to him… but Emre had his whole life ahead of him to prove himself! And he would! For whatever the cost!

And as they sat there together, in a soft embrace, Emre thought he’d heard ‘Allah, thank you!’…


	9. Chapter 9

By the evening, Serena has finally arrived to Bodrum. They moored in one of smaller, private marinas and went to find something to eat on the busy evening streets of the bright touristic city. Emre had his own ideas for where he wanted them to go but Leyla got interested in some eclectic place with traditional music and Emre couldn’t say ‘no’ to those eyes pleading with him so lovingly. He wondered briefly how soon it’ll be until Leyla figures out she can do anything to him when she looks at him like that… especially, when she herself looks like that!

Today Leyla went with the light blue dress with flowery patterns, its skin-tight top hugged her breasts just right and wide knee-length skirt bounced a bit as she walked. Emre thought she looked provokingly beautiful, but he missed the opportunity to say that on the boat due to losing the ability to speak temporarily… and now it was already too late to say it because they were firmly on the ground and into the crowds of people. Emre convinced himself he’d be able to master his hunger throughout the evening and his wife’s wardrobe should not have that much power over him!

Leyla, however, was clearly oblivious to the effect she had on Emre – and other men... There was no shortage of gorgeous women in the restaurant – touristic season and all – but Leyla seemed out of this world! She’d radiated that special kind of glow born out of happiness and sensual awakening, and Emre was proud to be the one to behold her, but, on the other hand, his wife beamed bright like a beacon and men around them started to answer her siren call! Leyla’s infectious laughter, her playful words, wave of her hair flying through the air as she’d turned in her seat to look around excitedly – all of that was just Leyla being her, being there with him, on their honeymoon… but did they care? No!

The guy at the bar that had sent Leyla some fizzy drink and saluted her when she’d turned the drink away – did he care Leyla was married and enjoying the company of her husband?! No!

Waiter who took more than needed time to explain menu options to Leyla, leaning inappropriately close to her face and practically breathing his suggestions into her ear – did he care Emre was sitting just there, next to Leyla?! No, he did not! And even though Leyla dismissed Emre’s flare of jealousy as unfounded, Emre knew better – men around them were drawn to Leyla, just as he was, and it was getting on his nerves! Big time!

Thankfully, the dinner part itself went rather pleasantly, without too many interactions with outside world. Apart from the same waiter who’d showed up with a bottle of wine – compliment to the newlyweds – and proceeded to pour Leyla a big glass of wine, praising its taste qualities in the most double-meaning words he could find. Emre was screeching with anger but Leyla just touched her fingers to his face and whispered ‘I’m so happy here with you’ and all his anger dissipated.

Unfortunately, the waiter did not dissolve that easily – he stayed long enough to measure Emre with cold disapproving gaze that said ‘What makes you better than me?’, then shrugged and went away. Emre almost choked on his indignation, mostly because he didn’t know the answer to that question himself. Everything that made him a ‘good catch’ before – his name, face, money, status – meant nothing to his wife! In most cases, she loved him DESPITE all of those things! So how was he supposed to compete if he had no idea what was it about him that Leyla found worthy of attention? Yes, he knew Leyla’s words – his brains, his loyalty, his passion, his eyes… But what if there was something smarter than him, something better than him – right here, in this restaurant?

Emre looked around, assessing men in the vicinity, feeling crippling fear freezing over his spine. He was not going to lose Leyla to any of these charming players, he couldn’t! Emre looked at her, enjoying a spoonful of ice cream, her eyes closed and humming with pleasure – Leyla looked positively content to be here with him and she wouldn’t fall for some random guy, would she? No! She’s too smart and dignified for that!

So Emre decided to relax and just enjoy a dinner out with his beautiful Leyla. She was his, she loved him, she’d married him! Life was good and nothing else mattered!

… … …

For about an hour… And then a deep hoarse voice made both Emre and Leyla jump in their seats:

- Leyla, canim! Fancy meeting you here!

Both Leyla and Emre turned to the sound of the voice and the look of recognition registered on Leyla’s face, as a tall dark-haired man in white T-shirt and artfully torn jeans approached them in wide strides. Without stopping to introduce himself or say anything at all, he gathered Leyla into a bear hug and twirled her. Leyla emitted high-pitched laughter and screamed:

- Hakim, put me down at once! What are you even doing here? I though you were in States, starting some business or something…

As she spoke, Leyla managed to free herself from the man and Emre stood up behind her, entering into staring contest with the guy who dared to touch his wife. The man stared back for few moments, unphased by the open animosity in Emre’s gaze, then turned his attention to Leyla and his face lit up with genuine smile.

- Oh, Leyla, babes, you’re so beautiful tonight! What are YOU doing here?

Emre ignored how the rude man answered none of Leyla’s questions and focused on how he was calling his wife ‘canim’ and ‘babes’, clearly indicating the level of intimacy Leyla wasn’t supposed to have with anyone but her husband!

Leyla, though, did notice missing answers – she took a wider stance and crossed her arms on her chest, tilting her head and squinting at the man.

- Hakim-sultan, stop avoiding my questions! I am here on my honeymoon with my husband – please, meet Emre.

Leyla turned around and smiled at Emre, getting lost in his eyes for few seconds and then getting back to reality as Hakim cleared his throat behind her. Her old friend stretched out his hand to Emre and introduced himself:

- Hakim Oglu, Leyla’s university friend.

- Emre Divit, Leyla’s husband.

Emre shook Hakim’s hand, using just a little bit more force than needed – again, Hakim didn’t even seem to notice! By the way Hakim’s t-shirt was tight around his chest and outlined a well-established set of muscles, Emre figured it would take more than one firm handshake to establish some kind of male dominance here.

But Hakim didn’t seem interested in that kind of contest – he realized Emre’s hand and looked him over with some suspicion. His eyes then shot open upon recognition and Hakim shouted, turning to Leyla:

- Your boss! You’d married your boss!

That sounded like an accusation and Emre stiffened at the idea that Leyla clearly discussed him with this ‘university friend’ and whatever this guy knew of him was not to his favor. Leyla wasn’t miffed by this reaction one bit, shrugging it off with regal elegance.

- Oh, Hakim-sultan, look who’s talking! Didn’t you romance your business partner in Ankara? What was her name? Nila-something?

Hakim dropped himself at the stool by their table, clearly going to stay for a longer time. Leyla and Emre set too, both edging on their seats – Leyla because she was eagerly interested in reconnecting with an old friend, Emre because he was just as eager not to let her connect too much!

Hakim waved off Leyla’s insinuations:

- She was Nala and that was long time ago! I moved on, went to America, just as you’d heard, started a company, sold it with a hefty bonus and came back home, to recharge, so to speak, find new ideas to work on. So, Leyla, meeting you here must be fated! Tell me, do you want to work with me?

Emre stopped breathing and looked at his wife who’d raised her eyebrows and chewed her lowed lip in concentration. She was actually considering this half-baked offer! Emre tried to reason with them:

- Work in what capacity? Leyla is a perfectionist and wouldn’t go for just any job, unless she’d be perfect for it. There’s also logistics to consider – we live in Istanbul and she won’t be moving to Bodrum for work…

Emre heard a low hissing sound to his side and when he’d turned, he was met with Leyla’s ice-cold gaze and sarcastically raised eyebrows. Her tone was just as cold:

- Well, thank you for the high praise, husband dear, and for recounting my geographic limitations so neatly.

Emre gulped. Apparently, he took it one step too far – and found out that Leyla’s code for being upset with him would be ‘husband dear’. And this guy was just adding fuel to the fire, damn him! Looking between Leyla and Emre with cunning smile, he’d suggested:

- Oh, I know, Emre-bey! She has always been like this, that’s exactly why I can offer her a job on the spot – I know very well that Leyla would be perfect in anything she puts her mind to! The brains on that girl! No offence, but I never understood why’d she took that assistant’s job with you, she’s meant for so much more!

Emre nodded automatically. He always thought Leyla was meant for greater things in her career, that wasn’t even an argument. But when he thought back to Hakim’s words, some hidden meaning crept up on him… Did Hakim mean to say that Leyla was destined for something better than Emre?

Emre fists tightened and his eyes shot warning lightnings towards Hakim but the guy didn’t even blinked – he was busy watching Leyla with the most dumb-struck expression on his face! The nerve! She is married!

In the meantime, while Emre was itching to punch that smug face just for existing that close to Leyla, Leyla herself was having some innocent fun with her friend.

- Oh, Hakim-sultan, you give me too much credit! I can’t do it, though, thank you. I have a job already and I won’t be moving out of Istanbul.

Hakim shook his head and stretched in his seat, locking his arms behind his head in a leisure and relaxed pose that – for some nerve-wrecking reason – showcased his biceps. He said:

- Leyla, canim, I can set up where ever you want! You know I don’t care where I work, as long as I’ve got the right people with me. And you, Leyla, are ‘right people’ though and through!

That’s it! Emre stood up abruptly and hissed at Hakim, letting his anger speak for himself:

- I’d be much obliged, Hakim-bey, if you’d stop calling my wife ‘canim’! And she’d already given you her answer, I don’t see a point in insisting!

Hakim wasn’t scared off that easily – he rose to his feet too, leveling with Emre – Emre was taller by few centimeters but Hakim was wider, making it a possibility of an equal fight. Leyla shot up between them, pressing both hands over Emre’s chest, pushing him away from confrontation gently. She threw few words to Hakim over her shoulder, not turning away her eyes from Emre:

- Hakim, it was fun meeting you here but let’s catch up some other time, ok? My husband and I need some alone time…

Emre saw hakim shrug behind Leyla and touch her shoulder in farewell:

- Suit yourself, babes! You know where to find me! Just don’t take too long, I really need you!

Hakim nodded to Emre, turned away and left towards the bar, where he’d joined a group of people and started telling them something animatedly. By the way they looked at Leyla appreciatively and waved at her, Emre guessed Hakim told them about his ‘university babe’.

Something broke inside Emre, splattering evil thoughts all over his body, making him see red and nothing else. Not even Leyla, still attached to his body, caressing his chest and whispering softly:

- Shh, Emre, he’s just an old friend, he’s rude like that, always been. Don’t take him seriously…

Emre looked down at Leyla, her serene blue eyes cooling off some of his anger, her beautiful shining face clearing away some of the darkness. But not all of it, not enough of it.

Emre took Leyla’s hand in one of his and dropped few bills from his pocket to the table. He commanded ‘We leave now’ and dragged Leyla out of the restaurant. He’d heard Hakim yell behind them ‘Hey, Leyla?!’ and was infuriated by the question in that voice – but then Leyla answered ‘I’m fine, Hakim, have a good evening!’ and followed Emre to the exit. Jolt of pain shot through Emre – to the outside observer, such as Hakim, he looked like an angry man dragging his wife out to the restaurant, to the point where that outsider offered her support and protection. Is that what he’d become? Evil monster to be protected from? And that, to Leyla?!

Emre stopped abruptly making Leyla collide into him. He’d let go of Leyla and hid his face in his hands, shaking his head and whispering:

- I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I don’t know…

Leyla hugged him tight, making Emre hug her back and hide his face into the crook of her neck. She kissed his hair and said:

- I love you, Emre, I love you…

Emre looked up, focusing on his surroundings, and his actions became pointed. He took Leyla by the hand and went straight into the maze of narrow streets, turning and twisting their path, making Leyla almost run behind him. Five, maybe ten minutes later they were in less touristic, much calmer part of the city. Emre ducked into quiet yard shadowed by overgrown flowering bushes and dense grape vines creating a canopy overhead. Emre pressed Leyla into the wall, kissing her neck hungrily, pressing into her with his entire body, letting her know how much he wanted her. Leyla whined and looked around, noticing the door on the opposite wall.

- Emre, somebody can come out.

Emre growled into Leyla’s neck, nibbling his way down her shoulder, planting sloppy wet kisses to her clavicle. Leyla tried pushing him away, but Emre grabbed the vines at each side of her waist and locked her body between his solid frame and the wall. He was so hot and hard, so desperate for the touch of her skin on his, drowning in the desire. His hoarse voice brushed against her cheekbone:

- The owner isn’t home. Nobody’s coming out.

Leyla tried to argue weakly:

- But the people on the street…

As if to support her statement, loud laughter broke through hot air, reminding them of busy streets just outside the wall. Emre shook his head and grinded into Leyla just right, dragging his length against her soft folds, eliciting whimpers and moans she’d forgotten to silence.

He moaned with her, pressing his forehead into the wall above her shoulder:

- I don’t care. I need this. You.

- Emre…

His hand grabbed Leyla’s left knee and brought it up, prompting her to circle his hips. That changed the angle of their connection and Leyla’s head pressed into the wall as the pleasure running through her body was getting too much to handle. She grabbed his shoulders for support, getting into the rhythm of his movements, going down hard with his every thrust upwards. Every collision was almost a painful one, but Leyla didn’t mind – they sent jolts of pleasure and raw electricity up and down her body, shimmering over her skin with sweat and salt.

Emre’s left hand traveled up Leyla’s knee, under the dress and to the rim of her panties. He moved them aside and dipped three fingers into her, his thumb diving between the folds to find that one peak and rubbing it in circles. Leyla buckled up and bit into Emre’s shoulder to muffle the scream followed by continuous uninterrupted moans. She clawed his back, energy trying to escape her but not just yet, not there yet… Leyla felt his fingers move inside her, bending, stretching… until he found the right angle and hit that spot that sent shooting start across her sight. Leyla exhaled with a cry of abandon:

- Emre… more!

He kissed her, he drank her, he breathed her in… never stopping the circling, the pressing, the agonizing dance of his fingers inside her wanting body… burning her skin with his lips and tongue…

- I’m here, Leyla. Come.

And she did… Leyla stilled, feeling all the restless energy run back to the point of origin, locking tight around his fingers – and then exploding outwards! Through her veins and muscles and bones inscribed with his name, into the lunges that stopped breathing and the heart that stopped beating – just for a second – and then rushed into action all at once, living again, being reborn… again!

Leyla felt Emre’s fingers slip out of her as he’d brought them to his face. Emre’s eyes were fixed on hers, his face intent, his actions deliberate. Emre licked her orgasm off his fingers one by one, suckling just a little, closing his eyes for a second to savor the taste. Leyla felt her insides spiral up again, anticipating the feeling of his tongue inside of her, his beard scratching the soft skin of her thighs… and the gleam in his eyes confirmed that was exactly what Emre was thinking too!

Leyla moaned, and her knees gave way – she’d fallen if not supported by Emre’s weight pressing her into the wall, still hard and throbbing next to her swollen flesh, ready to go whenever. Emre traced the outline of Leyla’s mouth with his fingers – now licked clean, one of them adorned with his wedding ring – and said in harsh voice:

- You’re mine. Only I get to do that for you. Only I make you feel like this. Say it.

Leyla moaned and sucked in his fingers into her mouth, wild ideas running through her mind as to what else she might want to taste of him… Emre repeated, his hips colliding into hers again, making Leyla gasp:

- Say it!

Leyla nodded, trying to find the words in her dizzy mind:

- Yes, Emre, you. Only you. There will ever be only you!

His responding smile was satisfied, even smug.

- Good! Now…

What was supposed to have happened now Leyla didn’t get to find out, because noises from the outside were approaching fast and some high-pitched female voice suggested to ‘go check out the yards’. Emre stepped away and let the dress skirt to fall down to its place, taking out few leaves out of Leyla’s hair and brushing it to some order with his fingers. Quick look over confirmed his wife looked semi-descent – even though flushed and stumbling over her own feet – but Emre felt confident enough to leave their hiding place. They had places to be. Things to finish. Oh, he wasn’t done just yet! 


	10. Chapter 10

Coming back to Serena was almost a run for them, and by the time they got to the boat, both Leyla and Emre were breathless – but not for the running. Leyla grabbed Emre by the shirt and pulled him downstairs, not minding that couple of buttons broke loose in the process. Unexpectedly, Emre stopped and unclenched Leyla’s fingers off his shirt carefully. Leyla watched in surprise as Emre started undocking the boat and suggested:

- Emre, we can just lock the door, and marina is empty anyways!

Emre dropped the lines he was untying and lifted Leyla in his arms, pinning her against the mast high enough for his head level with her breast. Emre dove and closed his lips around Leyla’s nipple, sucking hard through the fabric of her dress, making it wet and hot instantly. Leyla held on to the line above her and arched into him, feeling sharp ziplines of pleasure radiating from his lips and teeth. Emre released her just as abruptly and growled:

- For this we’re not staying ashore. I need to hear you scream!

Leyla gulped and nodded, heat pulling between her legs again in expectation. She stepped back to let Emre get back to the business of taking them out of here! And as fast as he was, it still took them half an hour to leave the shore and other boats far away enough… but not too far away – the shine of the harbor night life still beckoned them, boat parties still shared their music with them, life still held them connected and present. Leyla looked at Emre, his eyes peeled at the shoreline, guiding Serena to some position only he knew. When they’d arrived, Emre went to drop the anchor. Leyla watched his agile movements with hunger, waiting for her turn in his attentions. Emre was just so different and familiar in the same time – eyes shining, hair tangled, shirt hanging open, visible scratches over his shoulders and chest. Leyla gasped – she did that!

Emre looked at her and then down to his chest to see what got her so worried. Not noticing anything worth her concern, Emre raised his eyes and asked:

- Sevgilim, what happened?

Leyla came close and moved the shirt off his shoulders, considering the damage. How did she not notice any of it? Sure, some scratches were new, probably, from earlier today, but some already started to heal over – meaning they were days old! Leyla traced thin brown lines with her fingers and whispered:

- I’m so sorry, Emre… I didn’t know I’m doing it…

Emre caught her fingers when they crossed to his chest and kissed them.

- Don’t be, Leyla. I like them.

- Why?!

Emre took Leyla’s hands and traced them over his neck, saying:

- These are from when you want me to kiss you more…

He moved her hands to his shoulders, covering the scratches she’d already seen.

- These are from when you want me closer… and when it’s getting too much for you…

Emre followed further down, making her cover his ass with her palms. Leyla’s fingers twitched in a familiar position, like muscle memory, as Emre pressed into her.

- These ones – and yes, you’ve left your mark there too, - are from when you want me to go in, to stay in, to go harder, to go deeper…

Leyla was barely breathing, air in her lungs replaced with fire and longing. She felt like she was floating and the only tether keeping her to this planet was this man, his strong body around her, his marked skin.

- But does it hurt?

Emre chuckled and kissed Leyla’s neck, inhaling her mint scent deeply, letting it intoxicate him to the point of swaying. He said, licking Leyla’s earlobe, action both tickling and arousing:

- It does, stings when I swim. But I still like it. Means you want me just as much as I want you.

Leyla sighed, pressing into her husband with all of her body, giving full access to her neck for his fervent exploits. Emre’s lips didn’t stop at her neck, exploring around, moving down until they met the hem of Leyla’s dress. His hands quickly unzipped the dress on her back and yanked it down, freeing her breasts from the wet straining fabric. At the sight of them Emre groaned and dropped to his knees, taking one nipple into his mouth, and then changing to the other, and kissing, and sucking, and making Leyla tug his hair when she needed him somewhere else on her body. Emre’s hands went up Leyla’s legs, tickling the insides of her tights, pressing onto her hipbones, gripping her ass and fondling it roughly until Leyla started to weep softly:

- Emre… Emre… Stop… Please, stop.

He asked liking her navel, moving her dress even further down until it fell to Leyla’s feet:

- Why?

Leyla squeezed his shoulders:

- It’s too much… too fast… I want more…

Emre got confused for a second – was it too much or not enough then? But seeing how his wife pushed him back and her eyes sparkled with ideas, Emre figured she knew what she was doing. Emre got up on his feet and leaned back, watching Leyla step out of her dress and approach him in slow graceful movements. Leyla touched her hands to Emre’s chest and said in a soft but firm voice:

- Don’t. Move.

- As you wish, my Leyla.

She did that before – took control of his body. Emre was interested to find out what would she want to explore today – it was sure to be exiting for both of them!

But Leyla didn’t spend much time exploring his torso – hard, heavy kisses here and there, while her hands traveled down his body, drawing parallel lines. As they stopped at the waistband of his shorts and tugged down, Emre’s breath hitched. When Leyla’s kisses followed down too, he stopped breathing altogether. That… was that… happening?

It was. Leyla set on her heels, looking very demure – if it wasn’t for the fact of what she was looking AT! Emre just stood there, legs slightly apart to keep balance, and he couldn’t take his eyes off his wife, waiting patiently for what she was going to do.

Leyla tilted her head to the side, fascinated how Emre’s cock moved and twitched without any of them doing anything at all – just her looking. By the way Emre’s breath was irregular and raspy, Leyla guessed her looking may have been enough of a cause. But that wasn’t the extent of her plans for today, not after what he did this afternoon.

Leyla touched her hand to his shaft tentatively, listening to his reaction – Emre’s hiss was a good indication she was on the right trek. The skin was so soft there, so sensitive – Leyla ran her fingers up and down enjoying the velvety feel of it, and how his cock danced and jerked into her palm eagerly. Her fingers closed around the middle and Leyla pulled towards the base with a little twisting motion, just enough to reveal the head. Seeing how Emre reacted in visible shudder running through his body, Leyla continued, adding some pressure and speed.

Emre was losing it, quickly. Leyla’s touch, firm and gentle at the same time, shot spikes of pleasure through his tensed body, twisting nots in his abdomen, winding him up so tight Emre felt he might just collapse from the weight of his feeling, both physical and emotional. It wasn’t the first time Emre felt this touch on his body in his life – but it was the first time he felt to be given so much more than just touch! To be given Leyla’s desire to please him, her willingness to learn, her honest happiness about her successful attempt… Leyla was his ultimate first in so many ways!

But Leyla wasn’t done at all! When Emre’s head shot back and he’d leaned over the railing to keep upright, Leyla went further, to find out how that kind of heaven would feel like on the giving end. She’d licked the tip of his cock, then ran her tongue along his shaft till the base and up, marveling how his form elongated even more. Emre whispered a broken ‘Leyla… Oh, Leyla…’ and then she’d locked her lips around the crown and sucked, getting more and more of him with every suction movement. His cock jerked and hit the back of Leyla’s throat, making her gag a little, so she’d retracted some and came back down under the different angle. She couldn’t cover the entire length with her mouth, so Leyla stroke the base with her circled fingers – just a bit harder than with her lips, straining the flash at the draw, making Emre arch and push into her mouth, moaning incoherent sounds and hushed expletives. Emre’s hand tangled in Leyla’s hair and he’d tugged it just a little bit, to detach Leyla from his body. She moaned in disagreement and that sound sent vibrations into the depth of Emre’s body, making him give out choked cry:

- Leyla… too much… too fast.

Leyla had recognized that plea and stopped, releasing his member with a plop and licking her lips. Her hand stayed on Emre though, ready to continue when he’d relaxed. But Emre has had other ideas, as he’d raised Leyla to her feet by the shoulders and kissed her hard, hungry, desperate. Emre’s hand gathered her skirt fast and his fingers dipped into her and he moaned long and relieved when he’d realized Leyla was dripping wet and so ready for him! Emre twirled Leyla and bent her over the railing, hitching up her dress over her hips and kneeling behind her. His teeth marked the skin of her butt cheeks, her legs, as his hands drag down Leyla’s panties to her ankles. Emre commanded softly:

- Step out.

Leyla followed the instructions perfectly, raising a bit and hanging on to the railing. Emre brought his palms to the insides of Leyla’s thighs, pressing them apart, and stood up. His cock twitched at her entrance, trying to catch the connection point and once it did – Emre went for it hard and fast, and all at once! Leyla shifted from the force of collision but Emre held her by the waist, keeping her steady, while his movements picked up in force. Once Leyla caught on the rhythm, she pushed back, whimpering at every deep thrust.

Emre bended over and bit Leyla’s shoulder blade, his hand reaching around her waist and down to her soft triangle, slicking up her folds and pinching on her clitoris. Leyla buckled into him, biting her lips to keep herself from screaming. Emre bit her again and roared:

- Scream!

Leyla shook her head, looking to the side where night life was still within the sound reach.

- They will hear…

Emre speed up and rubbed at her folds with urgent tension. His other hand shot up to Leyla’s breast, cupping it, digging into her flash. He demanded:

- Scream! You’re mine! Let them hear!

Leyla hissed:

- Emre…

He pulled out and stopped, hovering at the entrance. Leyla shook with the loss, her body straining to get him back inside. She whined:

- Emre…

Emre pinched her nipple, earning another whine, and said again:

- Scream, Leyla! If you want to, scream!

And he collided back into her, forcing the air out of Leyla’s lunges, making her scream her pleasure into the night. She couldn’t hold it in anymore and followed his every thrust, every circle of his fingers, every bite, every lick with screams and moans and pleading for more:

- Yes… please… yes, yes, YES! Emre, yes! Ohh… nnn… ahh… Emreeee… yeeeeees!

High-strung cord that was keeping Leyla’s body upright broke with ‘clink’ and she would’ve collapsed on the railing if Emre didn’t keep across her chest. Feeling her muscles tighten around his hard shaft, hearing her whisper his name with satisfied sobs – it all tied up Emre’s heat to hers, releasing into her welcoming body with a broken groan, hiding his happy smile into her hair and breathing in her sated scent.

- You’re mine, Leyla. Always. Only mine.

… … …

When ringing in her ears subsided and Leyla was comfortably cocooned in Emre’s arms and covered by warm blankets to keep her naked body from chilly night breeze, she finally had time to ask:

- Was it all because of you being jealous about Hakim?

Emre looked down and kissed Leyla’s hair. He said sincerely:

- Leyla, I wanted to do this with you long before you became my wife. Hakim just got me angry for a while… but I don’t need jealousy to want you – that’s my usual state these days!

- And what is with ‘mine’ all the time?

- Okay, that may have been me being just a tiny little but jealous…

Leyla smiled and kissed Emre’s chest, caressing his pecks under the blanket. His chest heaved and Emre made a pleased guttural sound, reverberating through his body into hers. Leyla shivered – not out of cold, but of memory… or expectations. Her nails followed the curve of Emre’s clavicle to the hollow at the base of Emre’s neck, then up to his chin, tracing the outline of his lower lip. Emre bit on her finger playfully and Leyla giggled.

- Oh, Emre, just ‘a little bit’ then?

- Maybe, more than ‘a little’. You can’t keep me accountable for it – I’m going stir crazy when other men want you!

- Don’t be ridiculous, Emre, Hakim wants nothing to do with me that way! We’re just old friends!

Emre moved beneath her, rubbing his naked aroused body against her side, and hissed:

- I would know better, Leyla, that ‘old friend’ was eating you up with his eyes. Please, tell me you’re not going to work for him.

Leyla looked up, surprised by a shadow of concern and pain in Emre’s voice. Was he really worried about that?

- Emre, I wasn’t going to accept Hakim’s offer anyways… But you have to tell me if you ever feel like it, right?

- Yes, Leyla, I will. Or I will show you…

Leyla kissed his chest, sucked in his nipple and readjusted her body to fit into his. She was up for another demonstration...


	11. Chapter 11

On day four of their journey, Leyla and Emre went out to discover Bodrum. Leyla wanted to visit her father’s old neighborhood, few parks she’d read about and some castle. Emre just wanted to be with his wife – he’d been to Bodrum plenty, but never with someone so infectiously enthusiastic about it!

First, Emre went to sort out some maintenance arrangements for the boat. Leyla took this opportunity to look around the marina, visited few shops and bought a magnet that looked exactly like Serena, to put on her fridge when she gets back home. But when that innocent idea crossed her mind, it short-circuited, and Leyla practically fell to the stool at the shop café. That’s where Emre has found her, watching at the sailboat magnet with bewildered expression.

Emre looked around to see if anyone was tending to his wife – not having found anything like that, he asked:

- Leyla, what are we waiting for? Did you order coffee or something?

Leyla raised her eyes, her gaze surprised and wary. She asked, looking between Emre and the magnet in her hands:

- Where do I live? I mean, where do we live? I mean, I live with you, correct? I mean, do we live with your brother and your mother? I mean…

Leyla was blabbering, her pitch raising as she spoke, repeating the same questions in different words every time. Emre set at the stool before her and took her hands in his. They were trembling a bit, he’d noticed.

- Shhh, Leyla, sevgilim, it’s okay. Don’t worry about any of it. We’ll come back to Istanbul and buy ourselves a house. Until then we’ll live where you’d want us to live – with my family, or we can go to hotel or rent something.

Leyla looked at her hands and showed Emre a magnet.

- See, I bought a magnet, it looks like Serena. I thought I’d put it on a fridge, like we do at home… but I don’t think there are magnets on a fridge in your house.

Emre nodded, looking into her bright blue eyes with understanding:

- And you weren’t sure if you can do it in my house?

Turned out that he wasn’t as understanding as he thought – Leyla shook her head ‘no’ and explained:

- Not just that! We’d never discussed any of it! I don’t know what you’re looking for in a wife… but I’m already your wife? Is there a point to ask NOW and find out that you may have been hoping for something I’m not?

Emre looked around, shop getting busier with new wave of customers from arriving cruisers, and stood up, taking Leyla with him.

- It’s not a place for this conversation. Come.

Leyla followed obediently, too distracted with her thoughts to pay attention to where they were going. It may not have been the place, but the time was overdue…

… … …

Ten minutes wandering in the nearby park and they’d found a small bench surrounded by dense shrubs, their solitude interrupted only by muffled voices outside. Leyla set down on the bench and watched Emre pacing in front of her for some time, deep in his thoughts. Then he’d stopped and looked at Leyla intently, bent down and kissed her long and hard. Leyla came out of the kiss dazed and breathing heavily, to which Emre smiled and set down beside her. He said simply:

- Ask.

Leyla couldn’t focus after that kiss and got confused:

- Ask about what?

Emre brought Leyla’s hand to his face and started covering her palm with gentle kisses. He whispered:

- Our marriage. What do you want us to discuss about our marriage? Ask that.

It was hard to focus because Emre’s kisses, as soft as they were, caused very serious changes in Leyla’s body – but she did try to ask!

- Emre, where would we live? Do you want me to come back and work for you? What will happen if your mother refuses to accept me? Do you want to have kids?

Emre smiled into Leyla’s palm, peaking at her above her wrist. Leyla jumbled many important questions into few words and he needed to unpack this carefully. Emre started simple:

- You don’t need to come back to work in the agency, unless you want to. But if you do come back, you can’t be my assistant, we’ll have to find you something in the financial department.

Leyla looked surprised and a little taken aback.

- Why? Don’t you want us to work together? I thought, you’d liked me being your assistant! I was… oh… right… you have Melis now…

Emre squeezed Leyla’s hand reassuringly and shook his head:

- Hayatim, don’t be silly, Melis has nothing to do with us. If you want, I’ll fire her right now…

Leyla brought her other hand to her heart, grasping at the prospect:

- You can’t! She did nothing wrong! I don’t want to be the kind of wife that…

- Again, Leyla, that’s not exactly about you. Melis came to the office to find herself a husband and she’d spent way too much time on me and way too little on being a good assistant. Obviously, she didn’t know I was taken, but that does not excuse her being so unprofessional about her responsibilities.

Leyla giggled and then smiled shyly, looking at the ring on Emre’s finger.

- Well, you weren’t taken THEN! She could have hoped to…

Emre said in a very firm, deep tone, trying to make Leyla understand:

- Leyla, ever since the day I woke up thinking of you and how that day would be a good one just because I get to see you… Ever since the day I looked up the sky because I knew it would remind me of your magical eyes… Ever since the day I kissed you because I couldn’t hold it in any longer – only to realize I want more and more… Ever since then I was lost for anyone but you! I’d told you, Melis was a bad pretense and never anything real. You are my only real person, the woman I love and want to spend the rest of my life with!

Leyla felt mesmerized by the love shining in Emre’s emerald eyes, by the conviction in his voice, by the warmth of his hands holding hers so tenderly. He did love her! Not always, but for a long time now! And what did she care when it’d started for him? As long as it didn’t end, Leyla would be the happiest woman on Earth!

She nodded:

- Thank you! I needed it… As for Melis,… - and Leyla couldn’t believe she was saying something so egoistic and shallow, - I wouldn’t mind if you did fire her… But only because I think you need a better assistant!

Emre chuckled – his wife was so bad at her nonchalant act! And so adorably jealous!

- Yes, Leyla, I agree. But you’d set up too high of a standard – I don’t think assistants like you exist anymore!

Leyla offered – genuinely, optimistically:

- I can come back!

And Emre refused just as honestly:

- No way! - and before Leyla could think of another ridiculous reason on his behalf, he’d continued, - Leyla, you have too much brains to work as an assistant… and, frankly, I’d be too distracted to work, knowing you’re so close and I can catch you in my arms and kiss you and…

By the way Emre’s fingers travelled up Leyla’s knee, to her waist, tickling the underside of her breasts… Oh, Leyla knew he wouldn’t stop at kissing! Even in the office!

Her eyes wide open and her mind stumbling over ideas, Leyla nodded:

- Yes, it’s probably for the best if I stay out of the office. I just thought you’d miss me…

Emre raised an eyebrow and asked in a semi-sarcastic semi-flirtatious voice:

- Why, Leyla, wouldn’t you miss ME?

Leyla remembered that very similar expression not so many days ago, when Emre confronted her about their feelings for each other at the coffee stand. Both times he was right – she missed him then, she’d miss him now even more, because now she knew exactly what was there to miss, under those ties and jackets, that lean body, fitting with hers so perfectly…

- Leyla?

Leyla blinked and shook her head, trying to release from the hold her memories took of her body. Emre smiled knowingly, licking his lips and looking directly at Leyla’s neck. His question was very much a formality:

- Anything else you want to discuss NOW?

Unfortunately, there was! Leyla couldn’t phantom the idea of doing what they both wanted to do now, as hidden as this place was, so she took the high road and returned to the questions… they still had a whole night ahead of them!

- Yes, Emre, I do. Your mother.

Emre froze and swore under his breath – if there ever was a way to effectively cut off his erection, that was definitely it! Mentioning his mother! Emre huffed and asked a bit tiredly:

- What of my mother?

- What if she doesn’t want me as her daughter-in-law?

Emre shrugged and stretched his neck a bit.

- You know she won’t go against you directly. So, we just have to hold out long enough for her to accept it and move on. I know my mother – she’ll either find a new project to pursue or a new man to fall in love with – and she’ll leave us be! Can you tolerate her till then? For my sake?

Leyla pursed her lips and shook her head – Emre clearly did not understand her problem with this situation!

- Emre, it’s not that! I don’t want to put you in the situation where you have to choose!

Emre started back with surprise and retorted:

- You don’t! I mean, Leyla, we’ve already spoken about it! I’d already put myself in that situation and I’d already chosen! You! It’s my mother’s turn to choose – either she accepts both of us or none. We are a package deal now, right?

Leyla beamed a smile that touched her eyes, lightened her face and her entire being.

- Yes, we are! I love you so much, Emre!

- Love you too, sevgilim! I just wish you’d started taking it for granted already…

- I will! It’s just so new…

Emre kissed Leyla’s hands, her shoulder, her neck… his arms holding her tight to his body, engulfing her in his warmth and care…

- It’s for forever, Leyla.

He locked their hands together, their rings clinking at the connection. Leyla looked at their hands and sighted happily. They were married. For forever and always.

Her own personal version of heaven was upon her. Finally!

… … …

- Three.

- What ‘three’?

Sitting there, in the most peaceful place in the world – Emre’s embrace – Leyla had easily forgotten they have had a conversation! Emre didn’t. He elaborated:

- I want three kids. And at least one of them should be a girl with your eyes. But then again, I do realize I’m setting myself up for some headache with that wish… I’ll have so many troubles with hurdles of boys living at our doorstep…

- Emre!

He startled and looked at Leyla’s shocked face and checked in:

- What? Don’t you… - he gulped with difficulty, only now realizing that alternative thoughts never crossed his mind, - don’t you want kids?

Leyla smacked his arm wrapped around her waist and said in high-pitched voice:

- How could you think that?! I want kids, of course, I want kids!

Feeling how Emre’s body relaxed around her, Leyla nuzzled into his neck and continue:

- I was just surprised that you’d planned out as far as our daughter’s potential suitors on our doorstep…

- Oh, that! Sure, I have more ideas than that, but first I need to see what kids we do have… can be all boys… Divit’s are usually all boys…

Leyla looked up at him and dismissed his worries:

- Aydin’s are also usually boys… that is until my mother got into mix… and she wanted girls, and she’d gotten them! So, if we want girls, we’ll get girls!

Emre hugged her tighter, smiling into the top of Leyla’s head – if anyone could command such an unpredictable thing, that’ll be his wife! He whispered:

- I want YOUR kids, I want to feel as they grow inside you, I want to raise them knowing they were born out of love… because love like ours is too big for just two people!

Leyla nodded and kissed Emre’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. A warm shiver ran through her body and she raised her head to meet his eyes.

- Do you think I can be pregnant already? The math… the dates… it’s possible.

Emre looked back with anticipation and worry in his eyes.

- Do you want them already? Don’t you want to wait and see what kind of husband I am?

Leyla rose up and ran her fingers through Emre’s hair, tugging him in. She kissed Emre’s lips – softly, happily, pouring all her love into him, willing him listen to her heart and forgo his insecurities for the sake of their possibilities.

- Emre, I already know what kind of husband you are – loving, gentle, passionate and very mischievous. But I also know that you are going to be an amazing father and I can’t wait to see it!

Leyla’s hand moved instinctively to her stomach where the new life could possible had already been conceived. Emre covered her hand with his touch and said with reverence:

- Inshallah.

- Inshallah.

… … …

Tomorrow they’d be coming back to Istanbul. But that possibility didn’t scare them anymore. They ere ready to face their new life, eagerly, happily. Together.

 

****The End** **


End file.
